


Legendary

by dakatmew



Series: Legendary [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Fairy Tail
Genre: Challenges, Crossover, F/M, Fighting, History, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Mages, Magic, Teaching, Things that don't make sense, Violence, apprentices, causes a lot of problems, devastation, dragon slayers being idiots, everyone being idiots, going to have sequels, idiotic guild masters, just warning you, lots of death, lots of fighting, pretty awesome crossover, really weird things happen, should make you cry, start of it all, stating the obvious, tender moments, the bet that started it all, way more than you'd think, xover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 81,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dakatmew/pseuds/dakatmew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an invitation arrives, a challenge is raised to a person that has a, shall we say, larger skill in magic than most, she accepts. Obviously. What happens next is up to chance, skill, and a bet with a certain short guildmaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wizard Saint Royale

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter's song is Party Rock Anthem.

“Listener! You have something!” squeals Cicero, running towards me from the inside of the cafe we’re at. His red and black checked jester costume garners a lot of attention, but most people in Fiore are rather used to seeing weird getups, what with wizards running around every which way, in every outfit imaginable.  
I set down my teacup, as it’s still too hot to drink. “What is it, Cicero?”  
“A letter, expressly delivered, just for you! It has something to do with the saving of the world at the Capitol.”  
I frown slightly. “Why would they send me a letter?”  
“I took the liberty of reading it before you, Listener. I hope you aren’t angry- I just couldn’t help myself! A letter to you, from the Magic Council themselves! It’s so exciting, Listener. Anyway, they’re asking you to come back to the capital, to celebrate the ending of the Magic Games and the saving of the world. Compensation will be delivered on account for the inconvenience for traveling back there, and for any future disturbances by Dragonkind. They don’t know that about you, do they Listener?” he looks up at me expectantly.  
I laugh. “Cicero, why would I play my trump card when I have so many left?”  
He smiles, sliding over the letter across the tabletop.  
“It’s a competition for the Wizard Saints- to induct any new members, and to see if anyone can beat them.”  
I smirk. “Child’s play, but regretful. I cannot help you with this job. Cicero, you must arrange the contract and carry it out, collecting the reward and such. I’d take a novice for it, but we can’t afford any mistakes now. Once you’re done, gather our siblings if they’d like to join you to watch the Games. It’s in four days’ time.”  
He smiles at once, glad to go off on his own. “Yes, Listener. I look forward to watching you in the Games.”  
Running out of the cafe, he jumps aboard a train bound to Magnolia, where the client is. I sigh, happy to see him go. He’s a dear brother, but he is a bit tiring.  
“Farewell, dear brother. May you walk always in the shadow of Sithis.” I whisper, and an extra spring in his step tells me he heard it, or at least, he knows me well enough to know I’d say that.  
I call to the waiter. “Bring me the check. And how far is the capital?”

I get off the train, bag swinging behind me, full of my armor, weapons, potions, and various other things I happen to carry around like they weigh nothing. In actuality, it weighs about eight hundred pounds.  
Looking around, I don’t actually know where to go, but after glancing at the invite, I head to the Palace.  
One glare at the guards and they let me through. Pfft. Pathetic.  
Doormen open the overly-large doors for me, and after living with the grandeur that I have myself, even I admit it’s a bit overwhelming.  
Gold shimmers from everywhere, from the tapestries to the cutlery. Looking closer, I see it’s an illusion. Well done, but nowhere near perfection. Interesting.  
“And you are?” says a cocky voice, standing next to the door with spectacles and a ponytail.  
I smile at him, my illusion skills far outstripping the ones next to me. “Listener is the name I’m under, I believe.”  
He scrolls through the names, encountering Listener almost immediately. It has to be a rather short list, although this is the first time there’s been a competition to become a Wizard Saint. I’m aiming, however, for something much, much higher.  
There’s a select set of Wizards on the Council that thought they had no control over the Wizards, so they effectively use the Saints as their pawns. The Legendary class, however, no one has ever accomplished, because you have to beat all ten Wizard Saints when they’re at their highest level of magic, at the same time.  
You have to be at least an S-Class wizard to compete, and it helps if you’re at the best of your field. Which all the competitors are, probably, and their will most likely, be at least one other Dragon Slayer.  
The wizard points me to the tables around the main one. “You can find a seat anywhere you like. You’re the first one to arrive.”  
I smile at him. “Thank you very much.”  
He smiles back, blushing slightly, and I move on, smirking. I choose a seat at random, and sit down, pulling out a book.  
45 minutes later, a few more wizards burst in. The wizard at the door checks them off, and they look around for me when he mentions they’re not the first ones here.  
They rush over to me, the younger boys basically trying to charm me, and the older one that looks like he’s the weakest person I’ve ever seen, starts spouting off nonsense and steals my book. The woman with them sits down at a different place, looking annoyed.  
“A fine woman like you shouldn’t damage your eyes reading trash like this! Pffah!” He throws it behind him.  
My eyes go wide, and I dive for the book, barely managing to catch it.  
“Could you please, go bother someone else?” I ask, barely managing to keep my voice under control.  
The boys look stunned, and the older male seems to have shrunk in on himself in worry.  
Just then, another group bursts in, a girl with red hair and armor followed by an entourage of three people, a blond girl, a dark-haired man that was in the process of taking off his shirt, and a boy with pink hair with a black and white striped scarf on. Accompanying them was a flying blue cat.  
I mentally shrug. I’ve seen stranger things. Sadly.  
The other group previously swarming me go to them, and I return to my cushy seat, continuing my reading.  
Thirty minutes later, the door opens again, revealing a guy with blond hair and a coat over his shoulders, standing side by side with a man that looked slightly older. Both were laughing as they said their names to the man at the door.  
“You’ll be okay here, Laxus?”  
“You win for us, all right, old man?”  
They turn and smile, offering reassuring waves to their accompaniments. Other people arrive soon after, until the doors close.  
Everyone in the candidacy is here, and the wizard at the door turns to speak to us. “The Games will take place here, tomorrow. Today, however, is the preliminary testing round. We only have a limited amount of time, and budget, to do this, so we cannot let it go on for the 5 days it was last time.  
“Each of you will be allowed to run around the town, much like the last challenge in the Magic Games. Your task will be to take as many other players as you can out of the running. We can only accept the top three, and even then, we might overdo it. Two is much more likely, so don’t be disappointed if you don’t make it. You’re all the best of the best in your field of magic. These guards will escort you all to a different part of the city. Everyone has been evacuated to the stadium, and therefore, no one will be harmed outside of those competing. Competitors, please step forward.”

“Laxus, of Fairy Tail. Gildarts, of Fairy Tail. Erza, of Fairy Tail. Sherria, of Lamia Scale. Jenny, of Blue Pegasus. Sting, of Sabertooth. Rogue, of Sabertooth. Kagura, of Mermaid Heel. And last, but certainly not least, Listener.”  
I knew people would be muttering about me. Oh, the things that Cicero would say.  
“Let the Legendary Games, begin!”  
I smile, and go invisible.  
I do so love being sneaky.

I find the one called Jenny first. As no one knows who I am, they might go for me first. But, I’m way more than they could possibly hope to handle.  
I sneak up behind her, and knock her out instantaneously.  
“Listener has taken out Jenny of Blue Pegasus. And what’s this? Erza has once again taken out Kagura, while Kagura has taken out Rogue in a split-second attack!”  
A running commentary. How fun.  
“Laxus of Fairy Tail has taken out Sting from Sabertooth and Sherria from Lamia Scale! What will happen next?”  
I follow the sound of the Dragon Slayer and God Slayer shouts, and find Laxus standing there, looking at the two laying at his feet.  
“Voice Fool Far!”  
“What was that?” he turns and runs towards the voice, and I send a doubly-charged Ice Storm at him, freezing him to the spot. When he turns to see me, I’ve already sent another one his way. He falls over, and hits his head, knocking him out.  
“Only three people remain, folks. Gildarts, Erza, and Listener. Who will take out the next one, to become one of the two who may become a Legend?”  
I cast a Detect Life spell, and notice one to my right. I follow it, and smile. It’s Gildarts.  
“I’ll win this for you, Cana.”  
“FUS RO DAH!”  
He flies through the air, and I’m there in an instant, knocking him out.  
“I don’t believe this! Gildarts is down! Listener and Erza Scarlet are the last ones standing!”  
The competition taken care of, I trek to the stadium, eager for a real challenge.

“Listener! Since you took out three people, you have the honor of choosing who you’re fighting, and when you’ll be facing them!” says the announcer. I’m in the arena, surrounded by hundreds of cheering people.  
I smirk. “I’ll take all of the Wizard Saints on at the same time, today.”  
“That’s- that’s insane. Are you out of your mind, lady?”  
I smile, and laugh. “I assure you, I am still perfectly in my rational mind. But we all have a bit of madness in us, do we not?”  
The announcers can’t seem to move. “I’ll need some time to make some preparations, of course. Change into armor, check my weapons, et cetera.”  
“Wait, you use holder magic?”  
I wink at the announcer. “I use all kinds of magic.”

As I said before, I can use all kinds of magic, although Illusion is my strongest point in the magical chain. These modern magics that pop up all the time, they’re tricky, and they favor people that focus on them their whole life. Devoting one’s life to mastering a single type of magic would be way too boring for me, so I keep a general knowledge on most magic, and generally master the ones that are closest to the older magic styles. Enchanting, Alteration, Illusion, Destruction, Restoration, Conjuration. Those ones are the easiest, and most powerful of them all, although most people don’t realize it.  
Using Telepathy magic, I get into contact with Cicero, who’s brought Babette and several new recruits, as well as Nelkir and Aventus. All of them are vampires like me, and Babette serves as the Alchemist for our Family mainly. Nelkir and Aventus stop by occasionally, and take a bunch of contracts.  
I shudder, hating the sensation of probing into someone’s mind, even as close as our Family is.  
‘Cicero, please use a Bloodcursed arrow on the sun with Auriel’s bow. I’ll need it.’ I send to him.  
He smiles. ‘Yes, Listener. As soon as we get off the train.’  
I frown. ‘How far are you?’  
‘Still in open country.’  
‘Perfect. Do it there. We can’t have anyone suspicious about it, now.’  
He grins, taking out the bow and the arrow.  
A few moments later, I hear frightened shrieks from the crowd everywhere.  
I chuckle, and get into my armor, taking only a few choice weapons with me.

Walking out onto the field of the arena again, I see no sun in the sky, only darkness.  
‘Perfect,’ I think.  
The Saints won’t walk out into the field until I give the signal I’m ready. In my bag, I pull out my helpful little summoning things.  
With my enhanced hearing, I can seem to hear only one voice. “Is she going to write Jutsu-Shiki?” says a deep male voice.  
“I do not know. Evergreen, why aren’t you with Elfman?”  
“Yes, you two little lovebirds are getting awfully close now, Ever! The wedding bells might be ringing any day now!” There’s that voice again, laughing.  
“Bickslow, Freed, shut up. Just because you two have no lives doesn’t mean you can pick on mine.”  
“Oh, defensive!”  
There’s something strange about that voice. I wonder what it is…  
I turn my mind back to my task, and place stone blocks at relative points, enlarging them from their shrunken states with a sprinkle of a potion I have with me. They’re actually enchanted to know when I’m in overwhelming danger, and need help, so then the Gargoyles will burst out.  
I line the place with an intricate circle, of yarn. That’s right. Yarn. I place a cabbage leaf every so often, in a random pattern. Finally, a petty soul gem is thrown up into the air and shattered, spewing it’s tiny particles all over the field.  
Giving the announcers a nod and a thumbs up, they get the Saints into the arena via Teleportation magic.  
The first to jump the gun is Jura, using his regular attack. I familiarise myself with any enemies I might face someday.  
I pull out a cheese wheel, look him straight in the eye, and drop it.  
“Is that a cheese wheel?” say the announcers.  
My form shimmers just as his spell almost hits me.  
He withdraws it, and instantly I’m back, and in different armor. Two people accompany me, both in slutty armor like my own.  
I do believe I hear several men fainting of blood loss.  
Dark Seducers and Golden Saints. A helpful summons for the Champion of Sheogorath.  
Using my magic, I fight, twirl, dodge, and bring pain to the people who are classified as Wizard Saints in Fiore.  
They all go down, eventually.  
The last one standing is Makarov.  
Both of us are panting, tired, and using magic like we have a limitless supply.  
I relax my stance for a bit. “Tell me, Makarov, in the last games, they made bets, did they not?”  
His eyes narrow. “Yes…”  
I smile. “I think we should do that as well.” Of course, he can’t see my face, as the armor faded with the Saint and Seducer a while ago. They were extremely helpful, though.  
“What do you propose?”  
Smirking, I start. “If you win, I won’t bother you, or anyone in your guild until you die, and then fifty years after that.”  
“And if you win?”  
“I chose one person in your entire guild to become my apprentice. They won’t have to do anything else; just that. They won’t even have to join my organization, if they don’t want to.”  
He considers the offer, then grows to astronomical proportions. “Deal.”  
I hear various cries of ‘Master!’ and the like, and mutterings among the crowd.  
I smile, looking down. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”  
Conjuration magic summons powerful things, and I use it to my advantage, letting the trap I set long ago gear up and take him out.  
“Ah, Gargoyles. Such a shame that no one uses them anymore. Such useful creatures.”  
Makarov’s giant hands make short work of several of them, and I summon a Storm Atronach and a Frost one, trying to make him fall.  
I myself grab onto his hand as he tries to crush me, and climb up his arm, taking out Dawnbreaker and slicing up as I run, setting him on fire as well.  
I drive it into him at the shoulder, and he goes down.  
Retrieving my sword, I wipe it off. “I’ll be by to collect my prize tomorrow. Goodbye, Makarov.”  
I’m walking back to the room I entered the arena from, and pause, looking around the stadium. The Fairy Tail people are stunned, their minds not comprehending what just happened. I find one in the crowd though; he’s wearing a mask like a knight, with a little poof at the top. It’s rather adorable and badass at the same time.  
He looks over at me, and we make eye contact, maybe for a second. But I’ve seen all I need to.  
That man…. I’ll choose him. Just to be sure. Well, if I can.

Once I exit the stadium, dressed in my regular Ancient armor, I’m nearly tackled to the ground by Cicero.  
“Listener!” he squeals yet again.  
“Can’t….. breath…… help….. me!” I plead to my Dark Sister.  
“I would, but this is too entertaining. Besides, Nelkir and Aventus still have to greet you.” says Babette. Cicero finally stops hugging me, backing off.  
“Did it go well? Did you win?” he asks eagerly. Before I answer, however, Nelkir approaches me and gives me a small, calm hug, retreating quickly.  
Then Aventus actually does tackle me to the ground. He’s still so grateful for what I did, I think he loves me more than Cicero does. In a very platonic way, of course. Nelkir and Aventus are a couple, after all.  
Who’d a thought? I may have made them train together, and paired them up for jobs.  
In my defense, it was just a matter of time. They used to be rivals.  
Aventus lets up quickly, and I get up, panting. I’ve been around them for a very long time, and they still do that. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.  
“Yes, Cicero, I did win. And aside from a few cuts and bruises, I’m fine.”  
“You didn’t win, you cheated!” I hear a voice yell. Turning around, I find it’s the pink haired man from before, when he was following Erza Scarlet. With him are the others too, although the girls look rather reluctant, like they don’t want a fight to break out.  
“Uh, Natsu, maybe we should just go…” says the blond girl.  
“I’m not going anywhere until she admits she cheated!” Natsu yells.  
“I didn't cheat.” I state calmly and clearly. I need my rest right now, because I feel exhausted, but they clearly won’t let me go without a fight of some kind. Considering how long I’ve been on my feet, I should feel more tired. Definitely need to sleep more, though.  
“Yes you did! No one can take down the Master!”  
I smirk, cocking my head to the side. “I did. And if you try anything, I’ll take you down, even easier. I mean, Erza might pose some challenge, but the rest of you? Pfft. I’m leagues ahead of you.”  
Natsu roars, fire appearing, engulfing his hands. “I’m a Dragon Slayer!”  
“That’s not actually a very impressive boast, youngling. You’re Igneel’s son, right? The Fire Dragon Slayer? Hah. I’m the best there is, and there is no other competition compared to me. You were watching what happened in the arena, did you not?”  
Cicero grins behind me, and so do Nelkir and Aventus. Babette just sighs. “I really didn’t want another street fight… they’re so annoying.”  
I hear another sound, and it’s Titania Erza, requipping into Heaven’s Wheel armor, holding a sword out to me. “No one disrespects my friends. I don’t care who they are.”  
“You think you can take us? I mean, I just had a challenge that you can’t measure up to in any way. What could possibly make you think that you’d win?”  
She smiles, and shouts. “We have the whole power of Fairy Tail behind us!”  
“And I have a scroll of Mass Paralysis, and those that are too weak to take the spell, might die. Do you want that on your conscience?”  
“It’s on yours, you monster!” Natsu screams.  
I laugh, turning away and my Family does the same. “I have no conscience, for I serve the will of Sithis. Now, where’s our hotel?”  
Their stunned looks were extremely satisfying.

I meditate in my suite in the hotel, trying to decide when the facts are laid out before me.  
The most powerful wizards would be an obvious and predictable choice, as would be a weak wizard. And I hate doing something predictable. It’s almost never any fun.  
I won’t take a child- I’m not that cruel. So my candidates are narrowed down to the most promising candidates. The lists of their powers include their basic attacks, defensive stats, and what specific type of magic they use.  
I look at several of them, and toss them in the elimination pile. No, no, no…..  
Sighing, I pick up one last one, before almost dropping it in surprise. It’s that man.  
Curious, I read the file, and blush when I find a picture of him without a helmet on, although his eyes are closed. A second later, I find out why, and nearly incinerate the paper in shock.  
Figure Eyes.  
Most people don’t know what that really means. What it truly means is that they’re gifted in their specific type of magic, and any branch of magic, actually. It’s all very strange and complicated, but the amount of control needed to use them effectively and accurately is extreme. Anything else in terms of raw power would be considered downright easy. They’re not only extremely powerful, but they haven’t been seen in a hundred years, due to the dangerous nature of the magic. At times, it can possibly burst through the will of the person wielding them and killing those around them. As such, it’s usually considered dark magic.  
Especially one like that, with Seith Magic, Human Possession being his specialty.  
I toss Gildarts’ and Laxus’ files aside along with one called Gajeel, and write out on a sheet of paper his name, placing a complicated spell on it, before stamping it with my thumbprint and sealing it in an envelope addressed to Makarov. Upon opening it tomorrow morning, the designated person, once they hold it, will be transported instantly to my side. It’s a very useful magic, and it’s happened to help me in my assassinations on many occasions. Now I usually have to be more careful; they can track your magic signature now.  
I pack my things, and head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Makarov POV  
I can’t believe I let that snake make that bet! Why did she even want someone in Fairy Tail?  
“I don’t get it!” yells Natsu, slamming his hand down on the table. Lucy’s startled, and Erza’s unmoved. The red-headed girl probably thinks that she’ll be picked, either in retribution for what happened afterwards, which I heard about from the Rajinshu, or because she almost did the same thing. Gray looks up.  
“What do you mean?” he says in his flat, monotone voice, his shirt off casually. Juvia would usually be simpering over him for this, or anything really, don’t know what’s in that girl’s head, but she’s in the same state as Lucy and Erza.  
“Why would she want someone from Fairy Tail specifically? She said she wanted one of us as an apprentice, right? Well, why not someone from a Dark Guild! That’d make much more sense, they’d have no reservations.”  
I straighten. “It’s because we’re the most powerful guild. The biggest threat to her. The Magic Council can’t even stand up to her, and neither could the Kingdom itself. We’re just lucky she doesn’t want that.”  
“Yet.” says Laxus, strolling over to me. “If she’s taking an apprentice, I say it should be me. I won’t let her sway me, and, I might find a way to defeat her.”  
An outcry from the Thunder Legion follows his first statement, and I tense. “No fair! No fair!” cry Bickslow’s puppets.  
“It’s not that simple, Laxus. She’s the one picking; if anything, she’ll pick the most powerful wizard in Fairy Tail.”  
Natsu stands. “Then she’ll pick me!”  
“Oh yeah? Then why aren’t you an S Class Wizard yet?” steams Laxus.  
Gajeel and Gray join in the fight sooner rather than later, and I sigh. “Listen! We’re not going to be able to beat her if we’re fighting like this! She’ll come in, and we’ll defend our guild.”  
Lucy stands with Levy at her side. “Yeah! No one in Fairy Tail gets left behind!”  
“I have a message for Master Makarov of Fairy Tail…”  
“Huh?” everyone in the guild simultaneously stops fighting and screaming or whatever they’re doing, as a messenger walks up to me.  
“It’s from her.” I say, looking at the seal. A thumbprint seems to be the seal, and I break it open, withdrawing the letter as the messenger disappears, to make more deliveries.  
I read the one word printed on the parchment.  
‘Bickslow’  
My eyes scrunch up. “What?”  
“Who is it, Master?”  
I clear my throat. “Bickslow.”  
“What?” everyone seems to say.  
“I thought for sure it’d be Laxus…”  
“Gildarts seemed to be the biggest chance…”  
“Maybe Erza…”  
“Not Natsu?”  
Bickslow seems to be in shock, and Laxus grabs the letter, reading it to make sure.  
“There’s nothing else in here! Just your name!”  
Bickslow himself grabs the paper, and vanishes.  
“WHAT?”


	2. An Interesting Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song this chapter is What the Hell by Avril Lavigne.

Listener’s POV  
“... and that, Nelkir, is reason number six hundred and sixty-six as to why you should propose to Aventus within a normal human’s lifetime. Oh, hey, he’s here! And apparently unconscious. I’ll have to introduce you when he’s finished training. Send me a raven when you’ve run out of clients, and I’ll come and Listen as soon as I can.”  
Bickslow’s lying on the ground of the carriage, which is attached to a train. Our stop is the last stop it has, but we’ll just go in a magic-powered car. I still have to convince the makers of them to sell me one for my own, all they have right now are rentals. Stupid people. They could be making a fortune in repairs and the like.  
Nelkir stands up, looking slightly relieved to be free from my lecturing, and walks out of the carriage into the next one.  
I busy myself arranging the order of the books I brought to give my new apprentice to read while we wait to arrive at my house that is about seven hours away from the capital. We’ve been traveling for three, so I’m counting him lucky. It’s almost half over.  
He groans, and moves. “Ah, good, you’re awake. It’s nice to meet you, Bickslow. You’re my new apprentice.”  
He sits up, screaming, “YOUR NEW WHAT?”  
I frown. My ears are sensitive, thank you very much. “Could you please not shout? And you are Bickslow, right? Figure Eyes, Seith Magic, correct?”  
He nods, stunned into answering my questions. “Good. Then you are my apprentice. Call me Listener, please. Now, we’re four hours from our destination, about, and then a little bit more. You get to read the entire time. And here are your books.”  
He sits up, then stands. Even as tall as I am, he dwarfs me by at least a couple of inches.(1) “Why don’t I fight you instead?”  
I smirk. “I took down all ten Wizard Saints at once, remember? You wouldn’t pose a challenge to me.”  
“What if you didn’t set a trap?”  
“I’d still have won.”  
Five little images swarm around him, repeating ‘trap’ several times. My eyes light up when I see them. “Aww! They’re adorable!”  
What I can see of his face contorts. “What? No, these are weapons of mass destruction! Aren’t you, babies?”  
“And yet they’re the cutest things I have ever seen.”  
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”  
“Nothing. You however, have studying to do. Don’t worry, they’re not that long or hard to read.”  
‘Like most men,’ I think.  
Bickslow puffs up a bit, then sits down, lotus position, grabbing the book on the top of the pile, and starting to read.  
I allow myself a small smile, knowing that I’ll enjoy this, and he can’t see it. I sit deeper in my seat, getting comfortable, and resume my own reading, before switching to writing for a while. By then, however, it’s time to get off the train, and I get the books quickly.  
“Impressive. You’re on the last one.”  
“It’s harder than the others.”  
“Which one is it? And can we talk about it while walking? The train’s gonna leave, and this is where we stop.”  
He smiles slightly, and gets up, still holding the book. “It’s The Mirror. I don’t understand what it correlates to.”  
I chuckle. “You should relate it to a defensive maneuver. It’s for blocking. These Skill Books are all magical, except for that one.”  
“Skill Books?” His tone sounds as curious as a cat’s, and it shows when I give him a glance over my shoulder.  
“Yeah, they’re from a long time ago. I’ve collected them all, and they increase your skill in a certain area when you read them. Although, you do have to comprehend them, so that’s kind of there as well.  
“However, they’re kind of like Celestial Keys. They’re incredibly rare, only about 5 exist of each copy.”  
Bickslow looks at the book with a newfound respect. “Really? That’s what they do?”  
I smile. His naivety in this matter makes him seem so charming. “The rental’s over here. C’mon, let’s go.”  
I can see his smile when I glance back. His tongue’s hanging out, displaying his guildmark proudly, and I know he’s happy. I knew it! He likes learning, even if he doesn’t act like it. A part of me is even excited to teach him.

A little while later, we’re there, and once he gets out of the carriage, his jaw drops.  
“What, do you have all the money in the world? Is this normal for you?” he shouts at me when I chuckle and move forward.  
The house is huge; castle is more appropriate, actually, or perhaps, mansion. There’s a lake out back, and in front is a set of protection magic that ensure only I can pass through. It’s my private retreat.  
“Bickslow, come here. I need to key you into the wards so if I have to leave you don’t die or something.” I hold out my hand for his wrist, beckoning him closer.  
“They’re that dangerous?” his palm is pressed against the wards, and they shimmer, glistening in the sunlight.  
I smirk. “Incredibly so. If you were an intruder, you’d probably be dead right now.”  
He hisses at it. “Wicked.”  
I prick his finger, letting a tiny drop of blood spill out and trying desperately not to look at it, or smell it.  
Yes, that’s right, I’m a Volkihar, pure blooded Vampire. And I haven’t had a single drop of blood in over forty years.  
I press it to the wards before it has a chance to affect me, and it accepts him easily. Almost as easily as it did for me when I first bought it.  
Interesting…. But, I can think about that later.  
“Welcome, to Shadeleaf Manor.” (2)  
The awe must have a greater effect than I thought.  
“That was the name you came up with?” he collapses in laughter.  
“Ugh. Just get inside.”  
He complies, but he’s still snickering slightly by the time we reach the entrance.  
“C’mon, Bickslow, this is ridiculous. You’ve got a room to get to, and more training to do before the day is done.”  
“I’m not reading this time?”  
“No, you are, but not right now. Come on.”  
He obliges, following me up the grandiose staircase that splits itself in the middle, like all those other castles in the world we always imagine. He’s snickering again.  
“What?” I ask, turning my head and raising an eyebrow.  
“Oh, nothing, you’ve just got a great butt.”  
My expression falls flat. “Oh, how I loved to hear that. Nothing else can possibly make my day like a comment like that.”  
He just laughs more, and I sigh, before smiling slightly.

“This, is your room. Mine is right next to it, and the bathroom’s across the hall. Library’s in a huge tower, and the dining room is downstairs, immediately to your left off of the stairs, and the kitchen’s right by that. Any questions?”  
“Yeah, the training?”  
“Oh, yes, that. Tell me, do you have a second origin yet?”  
“I don’t.” he crosses his arms over his chest defensively, almost growling out the answer.  
“That’s good. You’ll have to expand your own magicka, increasing your magical stamina to outlast any opponent who faces you. Now, come at me.”  
“Here? Now?”  
“Oh, thank you for reminding me, right. We should go to the training room first. This way, Bickslow, and no comments about my butt this time.”  
He snickers. “Of course not, why would you ever ass-ume that I’d do that?”  
“That was terrible.”  
“Oh, I have much worse ones.”  
“This is gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

An hour later, he’s panting, almost exhausted to the point of collapsing. He’s not wearing his mask or overcoat anymore.  
“Hmm. That was impressive. Keep it up, and you’ll be gone sooner than you think.”  
He growls, and I recall it was on the third attack or so that I deflected that he started growling and grunting in response, choosing not to use words, except on spells.  
“Baryon formation!”  
“Oh, please.” I put up a ward, deflecting it to little or no harm. I didn’t see what was coming next, though. His fist collides with my face, and I can say I never thought that’d happen.  
“Finally, you managed to hit me. We’re getting somewhere.”  
He growls again, attacking at random now, physical or magical, and sometimes both. I’m hit a few more times, then he stops, and collapses on the floor.  
“That was rather impressive. First time sparring with me, and you lasted an hour and twenty minutes.”  
“What’s impressive about that?” he asks, gasping for air, his eyes shut.  
“The Saints went down in less than half that. I think you should try to use spells that don’t require speaking, or be able to just think about them, and instead of having to rely on your tongue, just think about it and it should happen.”  
“I’m a bit exhausted for that right now, in case you hadn’t noticed.”  
“So I see. I’ll get your books for you, if that makes you feel better. Get some sleep, and we’ll do some more training tomorrow.”  
He just huffs in response, and then walks out, rubbing his neck and carrying the clothes he took off in training. I wait for a moment, considering his performance. I wasn’t trying that hard, but he said he only had his original magicka, not anything more, and that’s what confuses me.  
He should have used up all his magic long ago, probably not even thirty minutes into our bout.  
What is going on?  
Could it be the time to open up…. that book?

I pick out a few choice books for him from the skill book section, then grab some for him to just enjoy on the sidelines, or perish from boredom. My eyes linger on the locked chest that Urag gave me, oh-so-long ago.

~Start Flashback~  
“Only open it if you’re absolutely one hundred percent sure, Arch-Mage…. Even I don’t know the repercussions of such a powerful artifact like that being allowed to be opened, let alone read. I just hope I’m not alive when you finally do.” said Urag, handing over the chest and the key rather reluctantly and eagerly at the same time. He didn’t want it anywhere near him.  
“Sadly, Urag, I get the feeling you’re right about that. And trust me, if I know, I’ll know. But you know me, I’m usually careful with ancient and extremely powerful artifacts that tend to try and end the world before the time comes, and all that.” I smiled at him, feeling good to know that my questions would be answered.  
If not then, then someday, at the very least.

~End Flashback~

I shake off the thought, and carry the books to Bickslow’s room. It’s kind of strange, having someone else in the Manor with me. It’s always just been me. I’ve never even brought Lucien in here with me, or even Cicero. My dogs don’t even know where it is.  
I open the door, and he’s simply lying on the bed, looking peaceful, under the covers. I set the books down, and pull out my own, before laying it down and getting my parchment, quill, and ink.  
He’s simply too adorable to pass up this opportunity.

An couple of hours later, I’ve drawn Bickslow at least several times, probably more than five, in his adorable little poses, and it’s hard to believe that someone so fearsome in combat could look so cute asleep.  
Really, how does that happen? Although, that might happen to me, so, I can’t really talk about it….  
I put the stuff away, though, as he starts to stir. Aww, that’s even more adorable. Also, I have to remember to bring charcoal next time. I believe it will work better than the quill and ink. Perhaps it will let me capture the flow of his hair, and the sheet covers that seem to be dipping oh-so-slightly towards exposure. I didn’t have anything to do with it, so don’t look at me like that!  
He stretches and yawns, then yelps upon realizing I’m sitting in the room with him. He draws the sheets around him, blushing spontaneously and looking protective.  
“What are you doing?” he yells out.  
“I was reading and waiting for you to wake up to tell you what you really need to read, and what’s not entirely necessary. You only slept for an hour or so, so it’s not like I really had the time to do something elaborate and creepy and weird.”  
He’s still blushing like mad, turning his head away from where I’m sitting.  
“Fine, fine, I’ll go. Brothers of Darkness isn’t necessary, but you might find it interesting. Come find me when you’re done reading, okay? I don’t know where I’ll be.” I exit the room, the door slowly falling shut behind me. “Maybe I’ll go for a swim or something….”  
I can practically his cheeks bursting into flames right now. Ah, teasing students. There’s nothing quite like it in the world.

I actually do follow my own advice, and walk out into the sunshine in a bikini custom-made, bearing a black hand on it and red the rest of the cloth. I don’t actually know why the maker made it like this. It’s a bit odd, and I don’t know if I’d wear it in public. The hand in on my right breast, and it’s kind of weird there. But hey, it’s my life. If it wasn’t weird, where would I be?  
Smiling, I dive into the lake, enjoying the feeling of the water on my skin, which already feels warm. It’s a good thing vampires don’t tan, or sunburn. Then I’d be in trouble.  
I face the house for a split second, and see Bickslow looking out the window, turning away just as quickly. Laughing quietly to myself, I swim out a bit, then just float on my back. I look up at the house after a few minutes to myself, and find him staring out again.  
Grinning, I beckon him out here. If he has any questions, then I don’t have to move from where I am. Perfect.

He brings his books with him, and sets them down on a tabletop next to a comfortable chair.  
I get out of the water and grab a towel, drying my hair. “Any questions?” I ask, standing next to the table.  
He nods. “One. Can I join you in the lake?”  
I grin again. “Got a swimsuit?”  
“You kind of teleported onto the train without giving me time to pack…”  
I smack myself on the head. “Knew I was forgetting something…. Huh. Well then, just whatever.”  
He smiles, and takes off most of his clothes, leaving his boxers on, as I jump back into the lake. I surface, and yell at him. “Catch me if you can!”  
“What part of this is training?”  
“I can find an excuse for this… Hmm… Let’s see… Stamina? Dexterity? Unwillingness to give up? Take your pick.” I snicker at his floundering in the shallow area, and then stop at his smirk. Bickslow dives in with the grace of a pro, and gets about halfway to me in the span of time it took for me to get where I am. He’s good.  
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, and swim away from the shore, into open waters, the middle of the lake. He’s still catching up, and I change course, swimming towards the nearest shoreline so I can stand up and cast a spell. Or several, actually.  
Swimming quickly, I finally reach the shallows, and stand up, casting a Water Walking spell. I smirk, and wait for him to approach me.  
“Please tell me it’s this easy.” Bickslow smiles, his tongue lolling out.  
He’s standing in the shallows, and I smirk. My arms are behind my back, and I prepare a Magelight spell, throwing it right at his eyes and blinding him for a minute. I run away from him, giggling, across the water, fast as I can. It might seem like cheating, but I never said anything about the rules, did I?  
I reach the opposite side of the lake, and equip an ankle bracelet with a Water Breathing enchantment on it. I tend to stash things around my houses just in case I need to hide out for a while, and this has come in handy several times.  
I dive to the bottom of the lake, or at least as far as I want to go. I can, however, see a light from the spell I cast on Bickslow earlier. He’s following me.  
Keeping up my diving down into the lake, until I can barely see around me, even with Vampire’s Sight, he’s stopped, and gone back for air. I hear a muffled shout, and can’t hear anything else.  
Is he…?  
I don’t know if they can do that….  
I wait a few moments, and something else enters the water with us. I glance around, trying to locate it.  
It’s his puppets.  
He’s smart. I knew I made a good choice.  
I swim away slightly, trying to toy with them, and him by default.  
They can’t see down here either, so though they might not have to go back up for air, they can’t find me unless they bump into me, or something along those lines.  
But, instead of just staying where I was and practically impossible to reach hiding spot, I swim cautiously to the other side, away from the middle, staying low to the ground.  
His dolls don’t find me, and he’s still out in the middle of the lake when I surface, finally, returning the ankle bracelet to it’s hiding spot and running back to the tables and chairs are. I briefly consider going into the forest, but I’ll save that for another day. It’d be no good to do something too difficult. Besides, it’s confusing in there. I’ve gotten lost at least once, and while there’s nothing dangerous in there, it’s not a very nice place to be.  
I sit down on one of the laid-back cloth covered comfortable chairs, and it’s a while before he notices that I’m over there, and not in the water. One can practically feel his displeasure at it. Although I can’t see his eyes with his mask on, I can feel a glare coming. Oh, I’m so scared.  
I simply smile and start writing in my journal. I have several hundred of these in my personal library here. It helps to organize myself, although I have to be careful with my writing. I take precautions, and it’s even in code. No one but me should ever be able to read this.  
Bickslow gets out of the lake, his dolls floating around him, and I toss him a towel. “Did you have a nice swim?”  
He throws it back at me, and I catch it before it can spill my ink. “Careful there. If you spill any ink, I’ll dump you back in the lake.”  
He stands over my chair, looking at what I’m writing about, and quite possibly my cleavage as well. Eh, whatever.  
Bickslow sits down though, and starts reading through the books he brought out with him. He’s dried off enough so that he won’t drip on them, though he takes off his helmet to read more clearly and dry his blue and black hair. I have to admit, it’s really cool looking, especially with the face tattoo. I don’t know why, though, but it’s just…. cool.  
I’m no longer paying attention to my writing, I’ve started describing Bickslow, and I just continue to roll with it. Nothing’s quite working out entirely as I imagined. I’d never thought that someone from Makarov’s guild would have been cool with living with a sociopathic, psychopathic killing machine, but, that part might not have come to light yet.  
Still, I never imagined anyone from any guild in Fiore, just agreeing to come with me, even though I sort of kidnapped him, and just settling in and doing what I told them. I don’t even know what I’m doing! Is that what makes a teacher a good one? Knowing what to do and what not to do?  
But what about all the other factors in my line of work? Experience? Working under pressure? Feeling the sweet, sweet smell of blood spilling out of someone’s body as their knees buckle, unable to right themselves, knowing their very life is coming to an end? Is that what my goal is here?  
To turn Bickslow into an unstoppable killing machine?  
Or just to simply impart all that I know upon someone before I eventually come around to the throes of fate, dying, like every other great hero out there that was remembered for a time, then forgotten?  
What truly happens to people like me, is that they twist. We try and fit into a mold that was made for us, but we don’t quite fit. It’s not a true calling, it’s not even anything like that at all. So what is it?  
Why did I take Bickslow as my apprentice?  
….  
…….  
I believe I need to talk to Serana. And sooner, rather than later.  
But how?

He finishes the books by the time the sun goes down, and we head back inside.  
“Where’s the kitchen again?” he asks.  
“Hungry, are you? It’s this way. What do you want?”  
“I can make it myself.” he grumbles, taking a seat nonetheless.  
“I don’t trust you yet, as much as you might want me to. Especially since you probably haven’t eaten in at least a half a day.”  
“Oh yeah!” his face lights up, or what I can see of it. “I forgot about it. The books kinda distracted me.”  
I watch him sheepishly rub his neck as I get out ingredients for pancakes. This place is always fully stocked, courtesy of moi.  
“Learning really dulls your appetite for a while, does it? Hmm. If I need to ration food with you, I’ll remember that.” I mix the ingredients together, before realizing I’m still in my swimsuit. Haven’t even changed.  
As they’re frying, I study him, whose reading Brothers of Darkness.  
“You know, you can take off that mask whenever you want. Figure Eyes don’t affect me. Well, at least, yours shouldn’t.”  
He looks up at me. “Really?”  
“I’m immune to most forms of mind control, and I know how they work, for the most part. A friend of mine actually invented something like them a long time ago, before they were known as such.” I flip a pancake or two, halting the flow of information for a second as I concentrated on my task. “He wanted to make people do what he wanted without actually having to tell them.” I chuckle.  
“Oh, Neloth. He so loved to kidnap people.”  
“You were friends with a kidnapper?”  
“He stopped long before I knew him, don’t worry. If I wanted to dissect you for parts, you’d already be sold and shipped, so don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I mean, I’m much more dangerous than Neloth, and besides, I’m your teacher now. I try not to harm my students.”  
Bickslow takes off his mask, shaking his head. “That didn’t make much sense.”  
I shrug. “I’m not entirely used to explaining things to people, especially about myself. It’s been a long time since my history’s been brought up. It’s kind of strange, actually.”  
“So what do I get to know?” Bickslow asks, as I flip the pancakes and put them on a plate for him. I place it in front of him, levitating out the maple syrup and such.  
“More? Good, there’s too much batter here. Well, I don’t know how much you get to know yet. I should tell you some things, but those would require a lot of background history and explanations that we don’t have much time for right now. It is, like, what, nine at night?” I sigh, checking the other pancakes.  
“I’m the leader of several organizations, or at least, I was the leader of several organizations. Most of them are collapsed now, although several of them kind of combined into one. The College and the Companions kind of merged into guilds as you know them today, although the College actually became more like the Council, though that is really more like the Synod. They’re about as reliable as them, too. The Thieves’ Guild still exists today, but it also has a different dark side, some taking after the Companions, and making Dark Guilds. The Black Market also sprung from them, as well. Everything stolen ends up there. Well, most things, anyway. However, those are just the basics. I’d tell you more, but it’s rather complicated past that, and the ones that aren’t familiar with those things get lost pretty quickly. I can write it up tonight in a tree or something.”  
He swallows a mouthful of pancake that I just put on his plate again. “A tree?”  
I smile. “Sort of a genealogical tree, but for the magical guilds and organizations of today.”  
“Interesting.”  
“History is always interesting for those who wish to learn from their enemies’, and their allies’, mistakes. Nothing reveals such things like a person who’s been there.”  
“You haven’t been there. Wait, have you?” he asks around yet another mouth of pancake.  
“Of course I have. Haven’t you noticed I’m pale as moonlight? I mean, sure, my illusions are strong, but I have to have a base. I never change my skin color.”  
“What are you saying about that?” his eyebrow rises from it’s normal position.  
“I’m a vampire.”  
He drops his fork. “B-but vampires aren’t real!” he practically shouts.  
I smile, putting away ingredients. “Oh, they’re real all right. But, Bickslow, seriously. When I said I’m not going to harm you, I mean it. If I do, I promise I’ll heal you right away.”  
“How can I trust your word?” Bickslow questions.  
I smile sadly. “I swear on my Dread Father’s name, and the lives of every member of my Family. I will not harm you if I can help it.”  
He relaxes a bit, then finishes his food quickly, but with less enthusiasm than before.  
“Leave the plate; you rest. You’ll be training hard every day for six days of the week; you’ll have one day off every week like clockwork.” I say, my arms folded across my chest.  
He nods, then exits the room.  
“Oh, and Bickslow? I haven’t bitten anyone in over forty years. I’m not in any position to bite you.”  
He leaves, and I hear him going up the stairs, quietly but not quickly. He’s thinking.  
I sigh, and clean up. I have a letter to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)- Estimation only. I'm sitting down right now.  
> (2)- I named it Shadeleaf Manor after Shadeleaf Copse, home of the Spriggans in Keizaal, where I grew up, despite my Elfish heritage. There were Spriggans here too, but they're all gone now. Shame. The entire species died out quite a long time ago, and now there's no one to protect the wild places anymore. This place is also so heavily enchanted, every brick, that if you tried to find it on a map, the magical interference could drive a person bonkers.


	3. Letter Writing is not my Forte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Faster than You Know by BlackGryph0n and Baasik.

I’m up for the better part of the night, just trying to find the right words to write in the letter. Serana’s the only one who really knows all this stuff, and it’s rather frustrating, because she wouldn’t tell me anything until I found this.  
To be fair, though, she didn’t know any of it until she found hers.

‘Dear Serana,

I know it’s been a long time, but I was wondering if you could tell me if I found that. I’m not sure if I have, but hey, better safe than sorry, right?

Your friend,  
Listener’

No…..

‘Dear Serana,

I’ve found that person I’ve been looking for for the past couple thousand years, and I need to know what’s next.  
Love ya,  
Listener’

Even bigger no….

‘Serana-

You know that magical thing that you kept hanging in front of me all those years ago?  
I think I’ve found it.  
Need to chat. When can you get to a town?

-L’

There we go. That’s the winner, right there.  
I plan to walk to the station, and I have to return the rental before they think they can charge me another day for it.  
Those prices are insane, and I don’t like paying them. They’re downright ridiculous.  
The messengers will leave as soon as they get something, and it’s about 4 in the morning now.  
Oh, by Sithis, I’ve spent over five hours just writing the damn thing.  
And it’s not even fifty words!  
Nevertheless, I get out of the house rather clumsily, my mind elsewhere, and almost trip over the steps leading down. I’m not quite at my best yet. I checked on Bickslow a while ago, and he was still asleep, rather adorably, if you ask me, and I don’t think he’ll wake up for a while.

My face grows ludicrously warm after I realize that I was smiling after thinking of how cute Bickslow was- is- in his sleep. Then I’m smiling again like an idiot.  
A lovestruck, irresponsible idiot.  
Oh, Gods above Serana, reply quickly. QUICKLY DAMN YOU!

Finally, I get to the damn town, and return the magic-powered car to the place that I don’t have any idea what it even is. Most of the rentals there have battery-operated engines, fueled by charged lacrima. It’s actually quite interesting, but I fail to understand it. I don’t hate them, but they’re just confusing to me. More than Dwemer machines of old, so, you can understand it.  
I run to the post office practically, and leave some Jewels and the letter in the office by the person who runs the place. They never see me, but they know it’s for their fastest messenger. I always pay enough for that, and extra. Usually by a lot.  
Also, no one quite does it like I do. Such fun it is.  
I’m walking back to the estate, checking the time, and find it’s about 4:45, and I don’t like being outside when the sun rises. Outside the estate, I mean. Well, any place of residence, really. Especially when I could be sleeping instead of out doing whatever.  
I enter the estate with five minutes to spare, and get inside the house to sit on the roof. You know, I think I’ll make this part of the training. Appreciating beauty.  
With a flash of my hands and a spell, there’s a basket waiting for breakfast, with scones and tea inside. I grab it by the handle, and hammer on Bickslow’s door.  
“Get up, and come to the roof.”  
I hear him grumbling, and some movement beyond the door.  
Yeah, he’s up.  
I hope he doesn’t wear his armor.  
I did not do that.  
No. No I did not.  
Stop thinking like that, me. It’s not good to be a teacher in- anything.  
I- I mean a teacher in, uh, a lucky partnership?  
Sure. Let’s keep it at that.  
I hurry up to the roof before he comes out of his room and notices me standing there like a idiot.

I sit on the roof of the castle, on a part that’s slanted enough that I can lay back and not be flat. I’m not concerned about falling; I could probably survive it if I did. I just relax until I hear footsteps, noting that Bickslow’s climbing the stairs up to the top.  
“Uh, Listener?” he questions, and I wave in response. I’m kind of hidden from view, behind a small parapet that’s lining the balcony.  
He comes over to where my hand appeared for a brief second, and pauses.  
“How am I supposed to get over there?”  
I smile. “Use your imagination. Climb. Walk. Run. Actually, no, don’t run. I’d rather not get a different apprentice. Makarov would kill me if you died, too, so don’t. Well, he’d try his hardest.”  
He chuckles, climbing over the wall and following my lead, lying on his back on the slant.  
“Why am I up here?” he asks me, actually turning his head to look at me. I see it in the corner of my eye, and resist the urge to blush. I’ve trained myself over the years. It comes easily after being involved with the Bards at the College in Solitude. So many odes and ballads dedicated to us women- you have to train not to show such frivolous emotion, unless you want to.  
“Appreciation of beauty and nature is something that few people have nowadays. I only learned about it when I watched the sunrise, and the sunset. It’s a time of peace and quiet, mainly, and people who observe it in seclusion, away from civilization, often get the best perspective.”  
I say, drawing myself up, hugging my knees.  
“Truthfully, I don’t understand most of nature. It’s a confusing puzzle that not many people comprehend, or even look at. It’s less complicated than mankind, but more complex. It has a cycle, a rhythm, a beat. All naturally. When an animal’s hungry, they hunt. When they’re tired, they sleep. They don’t force themselves to do anything, they don’t try and understand the way they live and the way others around them do. It’s simple, tasteful, and exquisitely delicate.”  
Bickslow’s looking at me, stunned. “How do you know that?”  
I turn my head, smiling at him. “I spent my childhood at a secluded monastery, called High Hrothgar. I had a power that I couldn’t control, and the people there helped. They, at least, could withstand that power when I lost what little control I had. After I fulfilled my destiny, I struck out, and discovered wonders that I never knew existed. I journeyed for a long time, but once, on the way back to my childhood home, I stopped, and saw the animals of the forest below, living in harmony, for the most part. I saw the whole process, and watched it again, twice more. I’d never been so fascinated.”  
I turned back to the sun, feeling it break through the atmosphere and fighting a shiver of uncomfortableness.  
“You have to see it for yourself, and have the time to do so, before you neglect it completely.”  
He doesn’t speak for a while, and I calmly take in the beauty around us. Especially the person next to me.  
I need to stop thinking like that.

Bickslow finally speaks, and says, “I don’t know if I see it yet.”  
We’ve been here for about an hour, and broken open the picnic basket.  
I pause, in between bringing a scone to my mouth. “We’ll keep doing this until you can fully understand it. Then you’ll want to be here.”  
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Really?”  
I shrug. “Probably. I don’t know. It’s impossible to see the future, as it can be changed just by the simple fact that you looked.”  
“So there is magic you don’t know.”  
“No, I do know it.” I pause, taking a bite and swallowing. “I just don’t use it. It’s too dangerous. Time Magic itself is actually very safe, when using inanimate objects, but Seeing is absolutely useless. It was used thousands of years ago, by mages who wanted to protect the world. There were seers, too, but that usually only came after a lifetime of knowledge and practice, like reading some very powerful artifacts I have. But the mages, I knew a few of them, and met some. They did not have any way to truly see, they could only guess, and keep tabs about what’s happening in the real world. They actually moved their world to a different plane, not even here, on Nirn.”  
He perks up. “Nirn?”  
I nod. “The old term for this world. The world is called Nirn, and the plane we’re on is Mundus, the world of men. And mer, but most of them are dead.”  
“Planes? You’ve lost me.”  
“It’s a confusing concept for people to capture without visual aids when you aren’t introduced to it when you’re young. Then you’re used to the concept. Of course, in the old world, it wasn’t really known to most people. It’s still confusing sometimes, even to me.”  
I chuckle. Bickslow might be smart, but it’s something that hasn’t been taught in thousands of years, disappeared from literature, religion, everything.  
“I’d really need paper to explain it in a way that made sense.”  
“Are you underestimating me?”  
I smile, flinging the crumbs from my food at him. “Perhaps I am. I do not know yet. Now, come on, we’ve got to get going. I want to teach you something today.”  
“What are you going to teach me?” Bickslow inquires.  
“You use Seith Magic. Seith Magic is controlling souls, and Marionette Magic is remarkably similar. We’ll work on that today.”  
“I don’t know anything about Marionette Magic.”  
“I didn’t either, a little while ago. It’s rather simple, actual. Very similar to the root of it, Conjuration magic, which is one of the most powerful magics you can imagine.”  
“What should I expect?”  
“Nothing too bad. I expect you to make a dragon out of something by the time the week is over.”  
His jaw drops. “A dragon?”  
“Yes, a dragon. If it gets out of control, I can take it down. Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”  
I lean back off the safe zone of the manor, letting myself give in to gravity, and laugh at his horrified expression, shouting “Feim!” before I hit the ground.  
Today’s gonna be fun.

“Bickslow, just concentrate. Imagine that the tree has a life energy, and instead of looking at it to manipulate it, you feel a connection, as if it’s on the end of a string, connected to your fingers. A single thread of magic will suffice to control its movements.”  
Bickslow’s standing in the middle of the gardens, trying to use Marionette magic on a tree. Trees are relatively simple. They tend to not fuss over who's trying to manipulate them, either via magic, or a wire with miniature trees. Older trees also tend to be patient, making them ideal for practicing it, as it’s something exciting and usually not detrimental to their health or welfare, if it’s just practice.  
I see a wiggle from the tree’s roots, working its way up. I quickly cast my magical vision spell I adapted from a searching spell for the Illusion Master Spellbooks, and find a tiny, tiny, tiny thread of magic from the tree to Bickslow’s hand.  
Another thing I see, however, is a thread, which looks more like several threads now, leading from Bickslow’s chest to….  
To mine.  
…  
….  
What?  
I shake my head to clear it of those thoughts, and mentally scold Serana to reply faster. I look at Bickslow again, ignoring our intertwining thread, and find a stronger thread attached to his fingers.  
“Good, Bickslow. Try to manipulate it, in a way you would if it was one of your puppets. Just, attached to the ground. Make it taller, or something like that.”  
He grunts in response, and follows my orders, sending the tree through the rooftop canopy, but slowly. He’s aware that the manipulation with such a novice may strain the tree, hurting it more than a regular practitioner of Marionette magic would.  
Once it’s risen by a good foot or so, I put my hand on his shoulder, expecting him to jump or start. No, he relaxed, just a bit, but enough for me to notice.  
It scares me.  
Nevertheless, I block off those feelings for the time being and say to him, “Now, reduce it’s growth. Don’t stunt it, just, imagine it reverting to its state before you manipulated it.”  
My hand still on his shoulder and feeling warmer by the minute, he shrinks it back down to it’s original growth, not even leaving a new leaf for it.  
I smile. “You’re a fast learner, Bickslow. You’ve only been here for a two days now, and you’re already learning more than I expected in this time.”  
“So you did underestimate me.”  
“A bit, at first, I suppose. But, that aside, you’ve gotten better. Let’s try with an inanimate object this time, it’ll be more like Seith Magic.”

In an hour, he’s gotten the hang of Marionette Magic. I didn’t expect him to do so well, and definitely not so quickly.  
How is this possible?  
Serana, help me here! I’m dying!  
….  
……..  
I’ve barely felt the sun at all today.  
It’s like it’s not even there.  
I look at the sky again, and find it’s perfectly clear, no clouds whatsoever.  
But….. what?

I decide to assign Bickslow some Skill Books, and the rest for when I have to read Serana’s response to my letter. His dragon construct can wait. While he sits reading, this time in the library, I’m pulling out books that I know have references to the realms and the Daedra in them. Making a genealogical tree for the realms is harder than I thought, even with all this source material.  
It’s about three in the afternoon when Bickslow coughs, standing up and holding a book out for me to take.  
“Why is this in your library?” he asks.  
I take the book, noticing it’s blue cover. Opening the page, I smile. Inside is a signing of the author of the book. (3)  
“It’s a cookbook. I knew the person that owned this, and the person who wrote the book themselves. They were….. interesting, to say the least.” I smile at him. “Would you like to try one of the recipes?”  
His stomach growls in response.  
“Oh, yeah, I forgot you need to eat. What do you want?” I get up, stretching.  
“I can make something for myself….”  
“Nonsense. You don’t know where anything is, and I don’t like having anything rearranged. Just answer the question.”  
He grins, thinking I’ve already turned enough I can’t see it, but I do. Facing forward disguises my small smile, and I lead the way to the kitchen.  
“I was thinking the Potage le Magnifique…”

About thirty minutes later, Bickslow’s enjoying his meal, cooked to perfection by my unusual ingredients that I added. I have a bag of septims in the kitchen, just for this dish specifically. Never fear, though, my Jarrin root is far from here. Besides, I wouldn’t dare poison my apprentice when he’s not even halfway through the training. It’d be too easy.  
I sit across from him with my smaller bowl of the dish, with a bunch of papers in front of me, and barely there, almost invisible reading glasses.  
“Why do you have glasses on?”  
Apparently not as invisible as I thought.  
I look up at Bickslow, and sigh. “I was fighting something….. rather large outside of this ruin once, and it used a fire attack on me. Fire isn’t pleasant for vampires; it burns less like sunlight, but still hurts very, very much. It hit my face head on, and I was only wearing a cowl that masked the lower half of my face. My friend who was with me and myself were able to repair the burn damage with Restoration magic, but, it got my eyes before I could close them in time. That was not a pleasant day at all. I can still see well enough, but fine print is… difficult.”  
“Was it the same friend you were talking about before?” Bickslow asks, tilting his head inquisitively.  
“The kidnapper? Yeah, Neloth. It was a long time ago. I don’t know where he is now, actually. Haven’t seen him in a few decades at least. He’d probably be able to explain this to you in a much more logical manner, and tell you seven or seven hundred things you didn’t know in the process.” I say, gesturing to the papers before me.  
“The Daedric stuff?”  
I point my quill at him. “Exactly. He’s really into knowledge and secrets and all that jazz. It’s rather distracting how much he knows. Then again, he was messing around with it before I put a stop to that madness on that island.”  
Bickslow’s confusion is radiating off of him. “Madness? Island? What?”  
I smile rather sheepishly. “I keep forgetting you don’t know all that about me. Everyone I’m around on a regular basis knows almost everything I know about myself. It was a long time ago. I’ll tell you when I finish doing this for you to study.”  
He perks up a bit. “Do I have the rest of the day off?”  
“No. Go practice your Marionette magic in the lake. I want to see how well you do with water as the substance, then mud, then sand, earth, clay, so on. Until you can fully manipulate my teapot without breaking it, but bending it so that if it wasn’t under your magical control it would, then you’re going to practice.”  
He deflates a bit, and I soften. “You can have the rest of the food, if you want.”  
And just like that, he’s back up again.

I’m working on the genealogical tree and the Daedric background, while Bickslow is sitting on the edge of the shore, practicing controlling the water and turning it into a golem.  
For those of you who don’t know, trying to channel magic that is not in your specialty is extremely difficult, the farther away from your specialty, the harder it is to control. You become used to the nuances and subtleties of the magic you use everyday, forgetting about the basic magic that occupies the world around us.  
You can work your whole life in a specialty, and only unlock portions of it; you can also work for a single year and master the magic easily, better than a person that’s worked their whole life.  
People like that, however, are terrible with basic magic, elemental spells, holder magic that they aren’t used to. Lacrima can even confuse them beyond reason.  
I’ve been studying my entire life on every branch of magic I can find, and I’ve mastered a good many of them, worked them to perfection, and worked others expert level. None of them are something I cannot master.  
Then again, as a High Elf, and quite possibly because of my Dragon Blood, I’ve been in tune with magical forces since I was born, so it’s not even a challenge to attune a new magic to serve me.  
I take a break from the research, tilting my head back, looking at the sun. Normally if I did this, I’d hiss and have to go inside for more than a day before I even started healing.  
So…. what’s different?  
I tear my eyes away before they can start to hurt me, and look at Bickslow’s progress. He’s creating a water golem, and is holding it in it’s shape, while creating a sand golem. An earth golem stands by him already made, and a ready source of earth already has water swirled in, mixing it into mud.  
All this, simultaneously. He said he had a second origin, but this…. I’d be starting to have trouble with controlling myself, and the creatures created.  
It’s almost as if…..  
No. No. That cannot be it. There has to be another reason.  
Oh, please, Serana, have another reason.  
I get up and stretch, heading into the woods to gather some kindling. The next test will be for a fire golem, which is the most difficult to create. Most people specializing in Marionette magic don’t even reach this level until they’ve been practicing for twenty years, minimum. I’ve seen some gifted mages in my life, but nothing like this.  
This should be practically impossible. He just started doing Marionette magic this morning!  
But, if I’m right, and I, for once, hope I’m wrong, then there’s an explanation. One that is very specific and extremely odd for people of this era.  
I turn and run softly into the forest before I can think of it any more.

I’m back five minutes later, and Bickslow’s already half finished with creating a mud golem.  
I build a fire, setting it aflame with my own hands for an intensely warm flame. Well, warm to me. Most people can’t get within two feet of it without breaking out in sweat. But to me, it’s merely warm.  
Vampire, remember? I’m naturally cold.  
Bickslow finishes crafting his golem, and sets them all on the ground, opening his eyes finally, seeing his four golems in front of him when he turns. His eyes continue to the flame, and then to me.  
I clear my throat. “Try to create a Fire golem, and then summon a tree golem, if you can.”  
He comes closer to the fire at a slow walk, his eyes narrow with concentration.  
Bickslow sit within five feet of the flame, and closes his eyes again. His already there golems are behind him, ready to protect their master.  
I consider summoning a Frost Atronach, but the energy needed for the spell could disrupt his concentration. I’m reasonably sure that he has a sensitivity to the magical world around him.  
The body of the flames rises up, forming a torso, legs, and arms soon after. A head forms, and from it flows hair, and I realize that it’s extremely different from the rest of his golems. He keeps it in the flames, and summons a tree guardian, with an additional, tiny, woven grass golem.  
The flame golem moves out of the fire, and Bickslow opens his eyes.  
He did it. Bickslow raised every golem that a master could.  
Incredible.  
My face breaks out in a grin, and I nod. “You can release them now.”  
One by one, they release into their origins. The last to go is the fire one, and I realize just before it goes, that it looks kind of like me.  
What?  
It’s gone before I can be certain, though.

Bickslow’s earned a break, and I give him the chart that I managed to finish a few minutes after he successfully summoned and disbanded the golems he’d created.  
After I hand it to him, I say, “Tomorrow we’ll work on something a bit more challenging. Perhaps elemental magic, or even Giant magic.”  
“The things that Makarov uses?” he asks, looking up at me.  
I nod. “One and the same. He’s a master of it, and one of the few that can actually alter his size at will just by thinking about it. Of course, he’s a midget for a reason. The larger you are, the harder it is to control. Every magic type has it’s benefits and drawbacks. There would be no balance without it.”  
He nods in turn, and then watches as I take off my shirt to reveal my swimsuit, diving into the lake. I surface, and yell at him, “Study the tree and read the books you haven’t had a chance to in the library, where you left them.”  
I don’t turn around to see if he heard me, or even acknowledged the fact that I was yelling at him.  
I take a breath, and dive into the lake, heading down, down, down, as far as I can.  
Just to float in nothingness for a while. To not have the pressures of reality building upon me.  
But, soon enough, my body’s screaming for oxygen. Vampires might be immortal, but, sadly, we still need air, even though it’s at a much lower rate than mortals do.  
I surface in the middle of the lake, floating on my back and enjoying the feeling of the sunshine filtering through the treetops and hitting me. Not burning, like it should be.  
My face contorts into a frown. I need to speak to Serana, and soon. If I can’t, then possibly grave consequences could arise. I don’t want to hurt my apprentice, but…..  
I don’t want to hurt him.  
My eyes snap open. I’ve never, ever felt that way about anyone ever before. Frea, I wanted to hurt sometimes as my thirst for knowledge was wrong in her eyes. Serana, for stating the obvious and being unhelpful in or on most of my quests. Cicero, for being annoying at the most important of times.  
But Bickslow.  
No. I’ve never had any urge to do anything other than teach him.  
And maybe draw him…..  
No. No. No.  
I dive back down, my blush burning my face so that I feel like the water’s boiling around it.  
What is wrong with me here? What is going on?  
Why do I feel this way for my apprentice, of all people?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (3)- Uncommon Taste by the Gourmet. Classical Breton cuisine.


	4. Intrusive Thoughts and Awkwardness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson.

I swim slowly back to the shoreline, the castle looming over the lakeside so that I can clearly tell where I need to swim. Sighing, I backstroke there, moving my arms with some reluctance, that could be interpreted as exhaustion or tiredness.  
Finally, I reach the shore line, and pull the shirt I’d taken off before onto my still-dripping-wet body. The good news is, I don’t have to take a shower tonight.  
I look around for Bickslow, but he’s not outside. Probably for the better; he’d probably trip over everything here; it’s practically pitch black outside. Rather annoying if you can’t see in the dark.  
I take the steps two at a time, snatching a towel from the bathroom to dry my hair before peeking into Bickslow’s room.  
He’s not in there. I shrug, and move off towards the library. There’s some research I want to do….  
Only to find that it’s practically impossible because Bickslow’s passed out adorably across the table, a book still held in his grasp.  
My expression softens, and I smile at the silliness and the new perspective gained from this experience.  
I drink in the sight of my apprentice being adorable, before spotting a piece of charcoal on a bookshelf near me. My eyes glint, and I grab some spare paper of mine, sitting down and starting to sketch out Bickslow’s position, his expression, trying to capture the simplicity and the simple cuteness of the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

The sketch is done after a few minutes, and I seal this memory into my mind forever. He’s too brash to ever consider looking like this ever again if he can help it.  
I take away the book, setting it down gently beside him, and hoisting him up, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back, with his head resting lightly against my chest.  
He stirs, and I chuckle. “You’re the most adorable thing when you sleep, Bickslow. Now don’t get up; I’d hate to drop you, you’re too precious for that to happen.”  
He doesn’t seem to take in my words very well, and just snuggles against my chest, and I smile at his childish behavior. He’s just like a four year old.  
My expression almost immediately turns to sadness. I won’t ever know what it means to have a child with someone like him……  
With the state my mind’s in, it’s hardly surprising to find that my legs carried us here, to his room, and I push open the door, glad I didn’t close it all the way when I was looking for him.  
Crossing the room quickly, I set him down on his bed, and smile sadly when I see his shudder at the release of my touch. Acting impulsively, I lean down and kiss his forehead.  
“Sleep well, apprentice.” is what he would have heard me say if he was conscious.  
What is wrong with me?

I can’t remember the last time I used this place, and I certainly don’t remember what’s in here.  
I sigh, thinking about all the calm memories that I’ve had here. Smiling fondly, I touch the walls of the house on my way to the basement. The forge down there has always been a source of comfort, and pride.  
I said I was a thief, right? Well, I still am. I’m just more of a murderer now. When Whiterun was abandoned, due to a dragon attacking and killing about half the people there while I was away exploring Cyrodiil, the Companions all perished in the dragon’s fire. I gathered what remains of theirs I could, and burned them in the Skyforge. It seemed to like that, and now and then I just send in something that belonged to a strong wizard or something, even a daedra’s heart on occasion. I transported the entire forge here on a new magical theory, but it malfunctioned a bit. When I found the Aetherium Forge, I used the same spell on it, forgetting it screwed up the first time, but it combined the two and made them into a technological advancement that could churn out thousands of weapons and armor if I wanted it to.  
I have my own mine, and bought it legally, too. The ore’s all shipped here, and smelted down for my convenience.  
Working the forge, I think back to how I got so many things. It’s been such a nice life, hurting others practically eternally to get what I wanted.  
I work the metal mechanically, my mind far away, and way far off from everything else. I’ll need to meditate if I want to continue teaching Bickslow tomorrow. I’d sleep, but it’s more refreshing for me, and sleep doesn’t clear my mind like meditation can.  
Just as well. I don’t trust Bickslow yet.  
Actually, I do. I don’t think I couldn’t if I forced myself to.  
I feel like I’m split right down the middle. One side of me wants to go off and just leave him behind, not accepting anything new and turning back to the Old Ways that I have used to survive for so long.  
The other side of me wants to embrace everything that is change, and Bickslow too. But I can’t follow either of my sides.  
I’ll have to take elements from both of them.  
I twist the metal beneath my hands, not even feeling the heat barely singing my fingers. My mind resolves to take the embrace change part, from the second one, and the Old Ways part from the first one.  
I can survive by adapting to change. The Old Ways might be old, but they function perfectly well compared to the rest of the world’s problems.  
My mind made up, I come back to reality and find that I’ve shaped a Dragonbone helm. But unlike any I’ve ever crafted before. I didn’t even know I was using Dragonbone. I could’ve sworn I had ebony in my hands….  
Ah, there it is. The glint of the ever-reliant metal is woven in between and into the bone, strengthening it and adding a nice sheen. It’ll look nice when polished.  
It occurs to me that I’ve been looking at the back of the helm, and turn it around. In front, it’s a full face mask, with holes for the eyes that are shielded by the tiniest slivers of dragon scales. The scales of the dragons of my homeland, so long ago, are intricate for every being. I used a Legendary Dragon’s bones and scales to make this. It’ll be terribly powerful, if enchanted. The bones and the scales will keep out and absorb most extreme temperatures, from freezing cold to desert heat.  
They’re incredibly diverse, and I’d know. I’m naturally cold because of what I am, but I’m also something else that no one’s ever seen before.  
And it terrifies me.  
I sit still in a chair near the forge, barely feeling the white-hot flames of the forge that should be frying a normal person, or even me.  
I can’t feel it.  
My illusions are so strong, they can fool someone if they’re at any distance. I’m that good.  
But it’s also made me afraid of what I am. What I could become. What other people think of me, if I took them away.  
One by one, I let them fall, taking out my many earrings and piercings from my eyebrows and nose. I have to put them on jewellry made out of gold or silver; nothing else is pure enough to hold such unbridled power in them.  
I feel whole again, until I look at my hands. They’re no longer the creamy white, incredibly pale skin that everyone expects from a vampire. Now, on the palm, they’re scaly, black, and end with terrible claws in place of fingernails. They vanish after that, for a time. My teeth, however, are the same, because I do like to terrify people, and don’t even cover that. They’re always sharp enough to hurt someone, and sometimes, when I’m especially angry, I feel like they’re full of venom, or acid.  
The undersides of my feet and up are monstrous, scaly and grey to black, the longer they’ve been there, the blacker. Almost half my face is covered in black scales, and my back has them everywhere. I even have little nubs, which I think might grow into wings someday.  
If I even let them.  
It’s a horrible curse. But everything has a downside, and every good fortune must have bad luck thrown on you as well.  
I stopped it a while ago, with vampirism. But every time I fed, it worsened, until I craved blood so much I almost killed a person with my bloodlust. I haven’t touched a drop since. Potions of blood don’t have that effect, so if it ever gets really bad, I just use one of those. Being surrounded by other vampires and constant isolation also helps.  
I sigh, and put on my illusionary jewellry again. Every time I do this, I feel like I’ve let a bit of myself die inside. I’m not sure if it can be replaced.  
My heart heavy, I climb back upstairs and pause, giving thanks to the house, allowing my gratitude to snake into it’s heart, and feeling it shudder as only a magical house can. One that has hidden rooms, and only ever obeys the will of it’s creator.  
I built this house millennia ago. Every brick, I laid it down with my own two hands. I made the lake in the back, the forest, I planted the first few trees. I took everything I loved about my homeland, Keizaal, and I put it in this place. I have a huge tree in the forest, taken from the Eldergleam sanctuary, blessed by Kynareth, the goddess of air, wind, and sky.  
All my trophies, all my hard work has gone into this one house. It is mine, and it always was, and it always shall be.  
I wrote the wards with my blood, infused it into the very bricks. Nothing will ever be done to this house as long as I’m alive.  
No one can take away from me, what is mine.  
Which begs the question….  
Is everything in here mine?  
If it is, then….  
Is Bickslow mine? Or is he not?

I sigh in my chambers, looking over the mask I made. It’s flawless, and I don’t even know how I built this. It’s almost impossible to melt together metal and bone so flawlessly, and although I’ve done it in the past, it’s taken me years to make even a single piece of armor not even half this good. Eventually, I scrapped the process. Took too much time, and it was too repetitive for my tastes.  
Having nothing else to do, I take the mask up to the Enchanting tower, unlockable only by me, and only operable by me and a few other individuals from the Old World, as I like to call it. Back when magic could be classified into only 6 brands of magic.  
I sigh, and pick up a Grand Soul Gem, before setting it down. It doesn’t have the right amount of power.  
Mulling it over quickly, I grab a Black one, and a necklace that loosely fits over my head, increasing my enchanting abilities.  
What should I put on it?  
Hmm….  
Something that will increase his abilities and give his magic a boost in cost reduction…..  
Conjuration with Magic Regeneration and Health Regeneration it is.  
I’ll make a gift of it to him, for when he leaves.  
My eyes go misty, and I raise my hand to wipe them, but I stop when I realize, they’re….  
Tears?  
Am I… Am I that upset at even thinking of when he’ll leave, which is in months?  
What is wrong with me?  
I-I don’t even want to know.  
But I have to.

I walk calmly back from my tower, deep in thought. I hear a noise ahead of me, and I stop dead, wondering what it is.  
Then I almost hit myself in my stupidity. Bickslow’s the only other thing in this manor that’s alive. It has to be him.  
He’s upstairs, searching for something, probably. I step lightly, before casting a spell to muffle my movements. I want to see if I can scare him. Creeping along, I catch sight of him in the library, reading, his eyes rimmed red from exhaustion.  
You can practically feel the frustration emanating from him.  
“What is this madness?” he almost shouts, barely bothering to muffle himself. He’s gotten up, pacing around the room now. “Why is this happening to me?”  
My curiosity piqued, I step closer, trying to see what he was reading. It’s no book of mine, and a moment follows with incomprehension flooding my brain before I realize, it’s his. That is his journal, one with the look of a book doing it’s solemn duty, to keep us mortals all sane as we can.  
It’s not an easy job, I tell you.  
“Why are you the only one in my thoughts? I can’t concentrate on anything! Invasion of my head is not a proper teaching method!” he says venomously, still pacing, but in the general direction of the book.  
Then I realize, it’s not his journal. It’s one of mine.  
My most recent one, actually. A quick look at the table shows attempts at deciphering the runes I write in. They’re Daedric sigil symbols. I could write in Falmer, but I hated them so much I killed them all. Who cares if they used to be Snow Elves? They’re gone now, and it doesn’t matter who killed them.  
Why is he trying to solve the riddle of my thoughts that I can’t comprehend, let alone even understand in the slightest! How could he, when I can barely bring myself to think about him without blushing and finding myself sighing over him?  
Wait….  
Is he talking about me?  
He sighs. “But, I suppose I should be grateful. She’s taught me more than I thought I could know about magic. However, she shouldn’t- she can’t be in my head! What is wrong with me, that I’m having these thoughts about my teacher?”  
I almost gasp, and I’m stunned. He’s…. he feels the same way?  
What?  
I slip away automatically, my mind barely able to tell my legs where to go, although they know the layout of every room in this castle by heart.  
My brain is too numb trying to comprehend what I just heard and saw, and my heart’s beating too loudly and too often for a vampire for me to concentrate.  
I go back to my room, and collapse on the bed, my face facing the ceiling and my thoughts turn to the chest that I don’t know when to open.  
I bite my lip, and shake my head against it, although I can’t quite convince myself of it.  
Hopefully, tomorrow, I’ll have an excuse to be away from here, for at least a day.  
I close my eyes, welcoming sleep, hoping to sink into dreamless bliss for at least a few hours.  
I didn’t succeed.

Pictures dominated my dreams, fragments of sentences floating by like on a breeze. I saw Bickslow turning away from me, and Bickslow running towards me. I saw two tattered strings, tying themselves together in a knot so complex that they could never be undone, and two strings tied together plainly. I heard random words like, ‘traitor’, ‘liar’, and so on. In the dream it all made sense.  
Once I woke up, though, that is a different story.

My consciousness returns after a while, and I think it’s only been a few hours when I open my eyes and see that the sun is already fully risen. Hmm.  
Bickslow’s trying to wake me up, and I hit him with a pillow, burying my face in another.  
“Listener, just listen!”  
Like a flash, I’m up, though still in bed. Quite alert, though.  
“What?” I groan out at him.  
He’s taken aback slightly by my sudden reaction to those words, but he holds out a letter.  
“Courier delivered this here a while ago, almost at sunrise.”  
“Ah, I knew I forgot about something. Sorry about that. Did you enjoy watching it?” I say, taking the letter from his hands and breaking the seal, not looking at it.  
He smiles at me. “It wasn’t as much fun without you there to lecture me about being one with nature.”  
“Perspective. You call it lecture, I call it a learning experience.”  
“So who’s the letter from, anyway?” he asks, curious.  
I just look at him. “Go read the next shelf of books if you’ve had breakfast. If not, go read the next shelf of books anyway.”  
He smirks, and then turns away. “So I can annoy you. I’ll remember this later.”  
The door swings shut behind him, and I relax into my pillows behind me, finally allowing myself to slip the letter out and start reading it. Yes, that’s Serana’s penmanship all right.

‘Dear L,

It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? I’m heading to a town nearby from where Urag and I are; you’ll have to find me there. Get a little shopping done there too; you might need it, from what I’ve heard through the grapevine. Of course, we can’t talk about it here.  
Well actually, it’s writing and reading, but you get my drift.  
I’ll explain it all once you reach me. I’ll be there in a day, which is when this will reach you, most likely. Have fun.

-Serana’

I breath a sigh. She didn’t tell me anything in the letter except that she’s in a town now. What time is it, 9? 10? I check my clock and find it’s only 6. Excellent.  
I throw on my clothes and yell at Bickslow.  
“Bickslow! We’ve got to go do something, now!”  
“The books-”  
“Just grab a couple, we’ve got a train to catch!”  
He comes out of the library carrying one or two of them, and I stuff them in my bag, searching for the emergency stash of illusionary magical jewellry. I find a few that look like they might fit him, and give them to him.  
His questioning look is met with a glare from me, and I’m putting on an earring pair when I speak.  
“It’s illusionary magic. I like being incognito, and your guildmates are probably trying to find a loophole and bring you back to them before you’ve spent a year under my tutelage. Now, since we don’t have a magic powered car, I’ll have to summon Arvak.”  
His earring in place, he frowns. “Arvak?”  
I grin, summoning the skeletal horse. “Get on behind me, and wrap your arms around my waist so you don’t fall off. We’re gonna have to gallop hard to catch the train, so get on now.”  
He smirks a bit at the closeness once we’re seated.  
Bickslow isn't wearing his armor, so the two of us are lighter than some of the loads I’ve had Arvak carry before. I’m more conscious of the fact that he’s so close to me than the fact that we’re racing by the landscape at a pace that I’ve actually never gone on a horse.  
A few minutes outside of town, we get off, and Arvak dissipates, and we run into the small settlement, buying tickets at breakneck speed and boarding the train even faster.  
I hand Bickslow his books when we sit down calmly, not in our own car this time, and then curse myself. I didn’t bring myself anything to do but think.  
Curse my brain and it’s inability to think when there’s such an exquisite person next to me.  
And, I’m lost again.  
Sithis dammit.


	5. Questions and Answers for Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Perfect by General Mumble.

About halfway through our journey, I pull out a notepad that I forgot I had. We’re sitting at the back of the seats, next to each other.  
‘We need a cover story,’ I write on the sheet of paper, passing it to him, acting like we’re playing a game or something in case someone looks at the two of us.  
‘What do you mean?’ is his reply.  
I sigh internally, and scrawl on the paper, ‘In case. I have a lot of enemies, and your Guild might be looking for you.’  
He scowls, and I feel a twinge of unbidden and unfamiliar guilt. I do not want him to feel anything but good feelings towards his education and learning. Stating the obvious about what’s happening in the real world won’t help me. Er, him.  
‘Fine then. Should we be a married couple?’  
‘I was thinking brother and sister, but we don’t look enough alike.’ I write back, blushing slightly.  
‘Compromise, newlyweds?’ he glances at me, and I see through the illusion like he must see through souls.  
I smile and nod, slipping away the pad and the quill and ink. My head rests on his shoulder, and I allow myself to do what I’ve been fighting not to do all train ride. Relax.  
Bickslow stiffens at first, then relaxes, gently stroking my hair, until I start almost purring like a cat. His wry smile makes my still heart jump into overdrive.  
We intertwine our hands, my right one and his right one as well, since his left is in my hair, relaxing me even more. If he keeps this up, I might just be a puddle by the time we reach our destination.  
My mind flickers back to the purpose of this trip.  
I don’t know if I want this, or not.

We stroll off the train, looking at a map because I don’t remember this place, and Bickslow’s never been here before. Within three feet of each other, tops, always, to maintain the facade.  
Can’t say I’m not enjoying myself. I could make Bickslow act like my lackey today and send him running around the town, fetching this and that in monster orders, but I don’t really want to. Being in his company gives me a comfort that I rarely feel anymore.  
Safety.  
I never thought that someone could ever bring me that sort of feeling, and certainly not in public. But it’s there, and I can’t ignore it.  
I like not depending on myself all the time for things. It’s a luxury that I haven’t had in thousands of years.  
We’ve toured the city for a while, and it’s refreshing my memory so that I know where to go. Serana has a house here, in the posh part of the town, although it’s modest for her.  
“This way,” I mumble to him, and he follows obediently, the two of us looking merely excited at having each other by our sides.  
Which may have been true, but there’s no telling.  
We reach the place’s gates, and I press a finger to them. It draws my blood, a deep, deep crimson, and lets us in. The miniature palace has a hidden walkway, as Serana loves her privacy. I do too, but that’s nothing compared to her. Her habits really changed when she was sealed away.  
“So this is where we’re going?” Bickslow breathes, rather stunned by the house.  
“Yes. It’s a friend’s. I have a few questions for her regarding certain matters.” I state, specifically vague. I’m not going to tell my apprentice that we’ll most likely be discussing him.  
“You can go shop in the town, if you like. You won’t be allowed to talk with us, so you can do whatever you want as of right now.” I shout over my shoulder, running towards the figure opening the door. I already know who it is.  
I give Serana a grin, and a hug before heading in. I turn my head back a fraction of an inch, and see Bickslow turning away to the gate, smiling faintly. My smile freezes for a moment, then is back to it’s former glory.  
What is wrong with me?

Serana pours the tea as I sit on a couch, in a completely curtain-clad room, devoid of sunlight.  
“All right.” she says, finishing the tea preparations. “Tell me everything.”  
I draw in a deep breath, and start talking.

“Well yes, and no.”  
“What do you mean, yes and no? It’s supposed to be a straight question with a straight answer of one or the other! Don’t go bending the rules now!” I yell in frustration at my older friend. The tea has long since been drunk, the snacks devoured, and several pillows demolished. They were on hand, nearby, and Serana probably didn’t care about them enough. There are places in my houses were there’s nothing of value, but tons of stuff I can rip apart in anger or frustration.  
She huffs, and leans forward, grabbing my hands and sitting me down on the opposite couch.  
“Listen to me. It could be, or it could not. Everything you’ve told me so far points to it, but you’re a special case. For all I know, you might not have one. You might have seven hundred! My point is, there has never been a vampire like you before, and that is interfering slightly. It could have all the difference in the world, or nothing at all.”  
I sigh, my figure collapsing slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…. I need to know, Serana. I need to know. It’s driving me crazy. He’s driving me crazy.”  
Serana smirks, and says, “In a good way, I hope?”  
I nod. “Of course it’s in a good way! That’s ridiculous.”  
My eyes go wide when I realize what I just said. “Ah, Serana, you tricky little she-devil.”  
She grins evilly. “I believe your Prince Charming is waiting for you somewhere in town. And hey,” she says, pausing and grabbing my hands once again. “if you have any questions, ask me. Nothing here is kept a secret from us gal pals, all right?”  
I smile, and she returns it. “All right. But don’t call us gal pals, agreed? We’ve been through too much together to be simply that.” I state.  
“Now, you go to your apprentice, and try not to kill him of frustration or magical overload in a week, okay?”  
“No promises!” I yell over my shoulder, already out the window and running towards town. Yeah, that’s right, I didn’t use the door.  
And people say that coolness is dead.

I scour the town for a while, and eventually find Bickslow, sitting outside at a cafe, with a couple of boxes by him. Grinning slyly, I sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.  
He smiles when he sees me, and I sit down opposite him.  
“So, did your trip here help answer those questions you had?” he asks, handing me the menu he’d been perusing.  
“Thanks, but no. If anything, it just gave me more questions. I hate it when that happens. Seems to be everyone’s favorite activities in life regarding moi.” I say, looking at the menu and deciding on the pasta they have available, and a white wine that from a very prosperous year. I should know, I own several orchards and brewing companies. Mead, wine, beer, you name it, I probably know a recipe and have some share of the market.  
A waiter approaches the table, and takes our orders. Bickslow’s having a steak and potato with the recommended wine, which I approved prior to his order.  
“What type of questions are you left with?” he says, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands, smiling.  
I turn my head away slightly, acting like a lovesick puppy in human form. “The type that confuse me to no end. When I ask a question, I usually expect a yes or no answer, but no, I get both instead. Just peachy.” I say sarcastically, throwing my hands up in the air at the last part.  
He laughs, and looks back at me. “But those are the ones that are the most fun.”  
“That is true in a way, I suppose. What did you get?” I question him, legitimately wondering what’s in his bags.  
He blushes slightly, and looks at them. “Things.”  
I smirk, leaning forward over the table so we’re barely an inch apart.  
“Things for who? For me?”  
His blush intensifies at my closeness and the question. “I, uh, um, hey look it’s our food!”  
I lean back, and the waiter sets down our drinks, but no food.  
“Close, but no cigar. Are you going to tell me what you got?”  
“Not a chance.” he responds, still rather red.  
I smirk again. “Well, I’ll have to find out at some point. I just hope there’s no lingerie in there for anyone to wear besides yourself.”  
He blushes bright red, and I laugh, taking a sip of my wine. “You’re too cute and way too fun to mess with, hon.”  
It occurs to me that we didn’t think up names for ourselves. Oh well, we’ll have to resort to pet names in public.  
Bickslow looks away from me, and drinks a bit of his wine. “How did you know this was a good year?” he asks me.  
I smile, swirling it in my glass, rather relaxed. “I have quite a few business holdings in Fiore, and even more everywhere else. The crown doesn’t regulate investments, or company buying-outs. I’ve done quite a few jobs in the market, and they’re brutal, most of the time. The best ones are the ones for the higher ups. That’s where the power both is, and isn’t.”  
Sipping my wine again, I frown. “But, let’s move onto more pleasant topics, or at least ones that can be mistaken here for something less than what they really are. I promised you an explanation of the madness on an island, right? Would you still like to hear it?”  
Bickslow cocks his head a bit, trying to maintain an image of nothing more than simple curiosity. I see through it, though. Wouldn’t be a master of speech without it.  
Of course, without a mask, I wouldn’t really be one either….  
Again, I shove the other thoughts away, including the ones about how handsome Bickslow would be if I drop the illusion, and focus on the story.  
“I was walking around on Solstheim, minding my own business, when suddenly, I was attacked by these curious Cultists. Naturally, I subdued them, with the assistance of some of my helpers I’d summoned. I found out that they were servants of this man, called Miraak, and when I asked a person, my friend, Neloth, about it, he told me he’d been dead for thousands of years. Mind you, he was alive way back in the Dragon Wars.”  
“Wait, wait, wait, the Dragon Wars happened recently. Kind of.” states Bickslow, looking at me inquisitively.  
“I meant the first Dragon Wars, smart one.” I reply, drawing in a breath to continue my story, only to be interrupted again.  
“There were multiple Dragon Wars?” he asks, his eyes wide, and exceptionally green, like malachite (4). I shake the thought from my head, and glare at him.  
“Will you stop interrupting me?” He nods, and I breath out again. “Good. As I was saying, he’d been dead for thousands of years, but now, he was alive and back again, aiming to take over Solstheim, an island off of Morrowind and to the north east of Skyrim. After that, who knows? He probably would have gone for the world as we know it.  
“He’d been plotting for centuries, as Hermaeus Mora’s servant Dragonborn, a role I would eventually fill for him. You know who Hermaeus Mora is, right?” I question, looking Bickslow pointedly in the eye. He nods again.  
I smile, and continue. “Miraak, as it turned out, had been hiding out in Apocrypha for a while, learning all he could to escape from his Master, who he was bound into servitude for as long as he lived, in exchange for the knowledge that the Lord hoarded. He slowly went insane, and thought he could hide an escape attempt from the all-powerful, all-seeing Daedra. No such chance, especially in his realm.  
“I traveled to his temple, and entered the Realm of Apocrypha, to find it was him, Miraak, the Traitor, as referred to by the many legends and tales about him. He was the first of his kind, with the inborn ability to Shout, to project your Voice into a Thu’um, an ancient form and art of magic. One that requires years of practice for regular mortals. He was the first Dragonborn.  
“I read all the Black Books that came my way, trying to solve the mystery, and I found myself allied with Neloth, the very person who pointed me to Miraak’s temple in the first place. He was unaffected by the mind control placed upon the island alone, and did not actually want to stop it, rather, study it, and learn from it.”  
I pause to sip my wine, my throat somewhat dry from the story telling. “Ah, Neloth. You were such a narcissist, even back then.”  
Another sip and a mild chuckle later, I resume the story, noticing that Bickslow’s on the edge of his seat, staring at me with newfound respect, and, dare I say…..  
Attraction?  
“I journeyed with him to the Dwemer ruin of Nchardak, which is long gone by now, worn down by time and the old age of this land that us wizards and mortals and creatures all walk upon. The book held captive by the Dwemer in the beautiful guarded palace, albeit ruined and abandoned, was mine at last, and upon reading it and taking the reward for the courage to retrieve it, I learned the second Word of Power necessary to strike down a Dragon, and bend them to my will.  
“Ah, Bend Will. I do not use you as often as I, perhaps, should. Anyway, moving on. Hermaeus Mora, or Herma Mora to the Skaal, requested the Skaal’s secrets that they’d kept from him for longer than I know, or care to know. The Skaal were a people of the island, traveled there from ancient times to live in harmony and oneness with the land, even though it is harsh and cold in the winter, and really, all the time.  
“The shaman of the Skaal, Storn Crag-Strider, yielded his secrets to the Lord, and I learned the Word of Power that allows me to Bend anyone’s will to mine, even Dragons, the lords of the skies. After a long trek up to the apex of the realm, a tower in the middle of a writhing sea of tentacles, I reached it atop the back of a serpentine Dragon, and engaged him in battle.  
“It was rather poetic, though…. The first Dragonborn versus the last Dragonborn, at the Summit of Apocrypha. Interesting, isn’t it? After almost four separate times of beating him, Hermaeus Mora intervened, killing his servant, and instating me as his newest Dragonborn.”  
I finished my tale with that, and drain my glass of wine. “Hmm. Perhaps I should have ordered tea instead of wine.”  
“How did you almost beat him four times?”  
“He used the dragons circling above as fuel, basically killing them to restore his own health and self, through the use of a Shout that killed them, and, as Dragonborn, he gained their souls. There were three dragons, and therefore, I beat him four times. Well, I would have, but Hermaeus Mora beat me to it.”  
Bickslow sits back, an awed expression on his face. “That’s amazing….”  
“I know. But our food’s here, and it looks delicious. Let’s eat.” I say, looking at the waiter bringing the food, then back at Bickslow. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, and I look away, not caring if it seems suspicious or not, while willing myself not to blush.  
It’s….. it’s not what Serana’s suggesting…..  
I just….. I, uh, I……  
I have no other explanation for this….  
I’m not even sure I want to have a different one.  
What is going on in my head?  
For once, can’t my life be not complicated?  
I don’t think Bickslow will want to be with someone like me, no matter if I die or not.  
Oh, yes.  
This is a matter of life and death.  
Would you expect any less from moi?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (4)- Metal found in Tamriel, used for making Glass armor and weapons by the High Elves mainly.


	6. Stories and Histories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Safe and Sound.

The food at the cafe is excellent, and I make a mental note to eat there again, even if I don’t particularly need to, or care. I do like having interests outside of what I regularly do.  
“Hmm, the train we need isn’t arriving until tomorrow… We’ll just stay here. Well, actually, after we’ve done some shopping first. I need to pick up some supplies before we head back. You eat too much.” I glower at Bickslow, after looking over the train’s arrival times at the station. It’ll be here tomorrow, leaving at 9 o’clock sharp, and I do like to torture my apprentice. It’ll be ever so much fun.  
He looks away, blushing. “It’s not my fault your cooking’s so good.”  
I turn around, laughing. “An excuse and a compliment? You’re learning well.”  
Bickslow grumbles, but grudgingly follows me around the town, carrying more and more supplies. I like to think that I’m training his muscles and stamina as well as getting a pack mule in the bargain.  
We finally arrive at my villa, and yes, I do happen to have a house in most major cities. A very helpful thing to do when you’re in my line of work.  
“You had a house here, all this time, and you still made me carry it all like you didn’t?!” he asks, gasping for air in between phrases, once we’re in the entryway.  
“Well it’s not my fault if you don’t know when you’ve hit your limit on the amount that you’re carrying. You wouldn’t let me help by carrying your own shopping bags, either. What’s in them, anyway?” I question, flopping onto a couch in the living room and elegantly sitting, legs crossed.  
“None of your business.” he mumbles, a far cry from what I’d take as his usual reaction. What is he hiding in there?  
“C’mon, what’s in the bags? I promise I won’t laugh.” I smile sweetly, knowing that eventually, he’ll give in.  
“Not a chance.”  
I huff, and my face falls. “Well, if you’re going to be so mean about it, then I’d rather not even know. I mean, it could be incriminating evidence for a crime, or a personal item that’s embarrassing…. The implications are really quite endless.”  
His face gets redder practically with every word. “Alright, fine! You wanted to see them, so look at them!”  
He tosses the bags at me, then his eyes go wide. “Er, I mean, er….. don’t look!”  
Bickslow dashes at me, summoning his puppets to try and get the bags from me, but I’m already off and well on my way to a place with a lock and a door.  
Or something along those lines.  
I find a door, finally, and slip inside, not making a sound. Bickslow runs right past me, not seeing through the illusion of me just disappearing around the corner. My magic acts fast like that.  
Smirking, I open the bag, and pull out…..  
Dolls.  
……  
……….  
Oh……… So that’s why he didn’t want me looking in it.  
My subconscious decides to ignore my proper and lawful choice, and squeals in delight.  
What is wrong with you, brain?  
A smile creeps over my face though, and my blush burns hotter than the sun to me. Great. He’s a guy who likes to buy dolls.  
But they don’t look like his regular ones…..  
I bite my lip, and nearly squeal. It’s just too adorable.  
Right?  
Er, no. No. Wrong, wrong, wrong.  
I’m wrong. Totally and completely wrong.  
My blush fades, I stuff the things back in their respective bags, and teleport them to his room. Hopefully, he’ll just think it was a harmless prank, and I didn’t really look inside the bags.

My meditation room remains calm, undisturbed by the destruction of my psyche. After teleporting the bags back to Bickslow’s temporary room, I need some relaxation, or at least some meditation. Keeping such things under total and complete control is very taxing on the body and the mind.  
I take off my armor, as well as the newlywed illusion, donning my Black Hand robes that I always keep with me, and close my eyes, breathing in deeply and rhythmically. Nothing calms me like this standard procedure.  
Or it should. My thoughts won’t calm down. They can’t stop twirling around in my head, or dancing through the scenes of peaceful valleys and secluded meadows that I usually picture to calm myself.  
It doesn’t help that Bickslow walks in, curious to see what’s going on.  
“What are you doing?” he asks, curiosity evident in his voice. I feel like growling at him, but I do nothing but reply calmly.  
“Meditating. Would you like to join me?” I ask, not breaking my posture or stance, except for opening my eyes to look at him. He’s come around to face me.  
He shrugs, and I close my eyes again. “Do you know how?”  
I don’t hear much movement, and he’s in front of me still, I can tell. “I do. It helped control my magic as a child.”  
“You had trouble controlling your magic as a child?” I question, cocking an eyebrow and opening my eyes, looking him in the eye. The illusions I created, even in jewelry form, disperse themselves whenever I wish them to, otherwise it would take a very, very long time to wear off. Only to me, of course. Otherwise, what fun would it be to reveal someone?  
“Yeah. I had too much potential, and they started training me in techniques to control it, when I couldn’t contain it myself. On top of that, I was taught my Seith Magic very early, and learned the most advanced techniques early too, as a consequence.” he pauses, sighing. “But I also had a portion of my power sealed away, otherwise it would have consumed my body and killed me.”  
A streak of guilt runs through me. That, er, that might be my fault.  
I stay silent for a time, then speak. “I can remove it, I believe, but it would take extensive knowledge of you and your memories, to be sure I don’t damage anything. Dealing with internal magical is always risky, since it’s very temperamental most of the time. Normally, it reveals itself through constant practice, but a person who knows the wizard extremely well can unlock it before it’s ready to be in the host’s body and easily accessible.”  
He opens his eyes, his brilliant green eyes staring into my blue ones. It’s a shame they’re an illusion, like most of the things about me.  
“You could do that? Really?”  
I nod, smiling at him. “I could, if I knew enough about you. If you’re uncomfortable talking about it, you could always write it down and give it to me to read when you feel like you’re ready to explain yourself.”  
Bickslow grins at me. “Thanks, Listener. It’s good to know that you’re my friend, no matter what torture you put me through in teaching.”  
He smiles again, and I smile back, before closing my eyes and attempting to return to meditating.  
But….  
Am I only a friend to him?  
Only a friend?  
….  
Do I care?  
… Yes. Yes I do. Not sure why, but I do. Damn you, feelings. You mess up this relationship, and I’ll remove you from my body again. I’ve done it once, I’ll do it again.  
Oh, who am I kidding. These are way too real and complete to be removed like that one time.  
Stupid, irrelevant, irreplaceable, intuitive feelings.  
Curse you.

I finally stop trying to deal with my feelings right now, and turn to the most important matter at hand, besides my overflowing room labeled ‘Emotions’ in my otherwise well-organized mind.  
The matter of how I’ll tell Bickslow that I intend to turn him into a cold-blooded killer by the time his apprenticeship is up. It will take some careful manipulation, and careful omission and explanation, but, I do believe I can pull it off. I’ve done it before, with similar things, and I am confident I can do it again.  
Right…..  
But, do I want to trick him like that?  
Irrelevant, my conscious mind screams. But my subconscious is busy shouting over them, saying, No, we shouldn’t trick him!  
I start listening to the two sides, trying to see them both in a logical light.  
‘If he finds out that we’ve been tricking him, it will reflect badly on us, our whole Family, and what we’ve been teaching him! Tell him the truth, straight up, and let it roll out for him to decide whatever he wants to do!’ screams my subconscious. Well, actually, it’s more like a heated discussion that’s incredibly stupid at the same time, but same thing.  
‘He won’t accept it if we just tell him, I want you to join my assassination organization and kill people for nothing more than the will of a person he doesn’t know, who we worship, and I know you’ll do just dandy!’ my conscious replies.  
Oh yes, actually, shouting matches between two warring sides in my mind are quite common when I meditate upon things that really bother me, that I have no idea how to deal with.  
‘Do you really want to trick him, like you’re proposing us doing? You think he’ll trust us after that? If we even try, and he sees through it, then the relationship of trust and helpful lessons as teacher and student will not exist in his mind! BETRAYAL IS ABSOLUTE, DON’T YOU REMEMBER?’  
I’m so stunned by my subconscious’ response, I snap out of meditation, to find Bickslow asleep on the floor of the room, curled up rather adorably on his side. He fidgets, shivering as well, and I sigh, taking in the sight and wishing I could sketch him like this.  
But I am his mentor, and I must think of him first.  
Carrying him is easy when I compare it to other things I’ve had to do. Like making my decision now, for instance.  
I lay him down on his bed in his room upstairs, and pull the covers up. He’s already not wearing anything really substantial, except for his helmet, which I take off for him.  
The combination of his tattoo, eyes, and hair makes such a striking figure that it’s a wonder someone hasn’t ever snatched him up for a modeling contract.  
Or maybe it’s just my strange tastes.  
Ergh. Out of my head, now.  
My eyes soften as he squirms in bed, finding a more comfortable spot, and I leave the room, returning downstairs to close the meditation room’s door and blow out the candles. The incense burned out long ago.  
I do not want to know my thoughts right now. I’m confused enough as it is.  
Returning to my room is easy, as is taking a bath, laying out clothes for tomorrow, and getting ready for bed in general. Falling asleep is not.  
My mind wanders, and returns to the question nagging me.  
When should I tell Bickslow?  
Should I let him have that choice, or should I not?  
What will happen if he leaves me… forever?  
I huddle under my blankets, shivering because of the chills that my own questions have so traitorously produced, before laying on my side, staring out the window, and trying to fall asleep.

I wake about an hour after I fell asleep, and it’s 3 in the morning. Hmm. I slept much more than I have in a long time.  
Luckily for me, the house is stocked with all the supplies I need to stay here every once in a while. Anti-decay charms on the furniture and wood, and insect repellant charms on the food and basically everything else.  
I start the coffee pot, and yawn. I do have a bunch of work to do, but the first is to wonder what I will actually be doing before I tell him.  
Perhaps…..  
….. is this a good idea?  
Hmm…..  
I rush upstairs and grab my quill and ink, as well as paper and my favorite mug. Yes, I always carry it around with me.  
With coffee in my mug and quill in hand, I started writing.

‘The first time I ever killed someone for a person specifically requesting I do so, was for a young boy. He ran away from an orphanage, where the matron was terrible to every child that passed through her hands there. His mother had just died, and he was shipped from his house to the orphanage with only a letter to tell him what was happening to him.  
I didn’t even know that he wanted her dead; I entered the place, the wretched orphanage in an equally wretched city, expecting to find them working hard, but grateful to their matron.  
I found nothing of the sort.  
The children were beaten, starved, and generally punished by the matron, who was an old, horribly shrewd woman who couldn’t act kindly towards someone if her life depended on it.  
Which it did. And she failed.  
I killed her with a single slash across her throat that very instant. She was dead, and the next thing I knew, the children were clustered around me, rejoicing in their matron’s death at my hands.  
I don’t think I have ever felt more proud. By a single draw of my sword, I made an entire group of orphans blissfully happy. Never have I done that again.  
I visited the boy they talked about, when rumors persisted of him performing a ritual to summon someone to do what I had just done.  
He asked me, with the behavior of a schoolboy, with the hatred of an adult, with the poise of a man, to kill his dreaded matron at the orphanage, to set free the other orphans as well.  
He gave me an heirloom, and I gave him hope. It was a fair exchange, and nothing more came of it for him until many years later.  
But I am not he. I do not know his story like he does. We may be Family, but we are all still just Brothers and Sisters. Nothing ever less. But sometimes more.  
A note came for me that day. A simple note, with a black handprint on it, of a right hand, with something scrawled under it.  
We know.’

My coffee is gone from my cup, and I climb out of my seat to get another. I know I can pull the right strings to make it publish, and I know I can guarantee it’s a bestseller, or, at the very least, talked about enough to do some damage.  
My mouth curls into a grin. I believe I’ve found my way of telling Bickslow what I am, and why I do it.  
Family always comes first.

I don’t write anymore for a while, waiting for Bickslow’s now-familiar silhouette to stand out in the kitchen doorway. He does, eventually, show himself, and it’s about 4:45 in the morning.  
“Coffee? How long have you been up?” he scoffs, taking in the scene of me unkempt and sipping the caffeinated beverage that’s saved my life more than a couple of times.  
“You’d be surprised how often I use this thing, and the serious wakeup potential it has. It saved my life when it was still barely refined, a new export from Elsweyr.”  
He sits beside me, and I pour him a cup in a different mug. “What’s Elsweyr?” he asks, after a sip or two.  
I sigh, and take a long draught of my coffee. The bitter taste contracts with the sweet sensation that I remember when it was first invented with Moon Sugar.  
“It is a sad tale. They were a nation of, shall we say, exoticness. Are you familiar with the Exceed?” I begin.  
“The Exceed? They were from Edolas, right?” he asks, looking at me intently.  
I return his gaze. “They were there for such a long time that they forgot that their homeland was originally Elsweyr. They were a subspecies of a beastial race, the Khajiit, whose fate and kind depended on the Lunar Lattice, when there were two moons orbiting this planet. Nothing remains of their culture, or their species, after the genocide that was laid upon them by the Nord-Redguard alliance.”  
His questioning look gives me more than enough encouragement to continue. I take a sip of my coffee, and speak again.  
“The Khajiit were allied with the Aldmeri Dominion in the 4th Era, a very, very long time ago. When the Second Great War broke out, they fought against the Imperials, the name for the Empire and it’s cosmopolitan citizens. Eventually, with me fighting on the side of the Imperials, they were defeated and reversed the White-Gold Concordat, which banned the worship of one of the most beloved gods of the Nords, Talos.  
“However, for the most part, the Nords continued their attack, enacting genocide to all the elves races and the beastial races. They killed every living being that wasn’t a human they could. It was worse than the Snow-Elf hunting in the First Era. The most magical of the human races, the Bretons, were persecuted and judged in extreme measures by the Nords and the Redguards, who were mainly acting for revenge.”  
I chuckled, and took a long drink from my coffee mug, smiling sadly into the dark liquid below.  
“I was barely able to restrain them from attacking the peaceful bystanders who did not want to take sides. Once the Khajiit and the Argonians were almost gone, delegations arrived at my doorstep bearing their cultural heritage; Hist trees from Black Marsh, journals and notes and books written in Saxhleel, their natural tongue, along with guides to it, and from Elsweyr, their came Moon Sugar plants, their cultivation methods for them, and the guide to their culture and everything they could possibly put in a book from their collective history.”  
My eyes turn sad. “They knew they were going to die. At least, most of them.”  
I sigh heavily, and take another sip of my coffee, finishing it off. Bickslow refreshes it for me, then his own, making another pot as well as starting pancakes.  
“A small portion of Khajiit survived the genocidal tendencies of the Era, and retreated when a Daedra opened a portal to them to another world, another realm. Edolas, it was called. Apparently, there was a time-displacement field going on in the realm, and caused the Khajiit to lose some of their size, and gain wings in exchange. Some Khajiit were already small enough to not shrink, and were crowned the ruler. The Dwemer, who disappeared before then, arrived after them, and were the people of Edolas. At least, that’s my theory. The rest of the story, you know, do you not?”  
Bickslow nods slowly, distant. “That’s a sad story.”  
I nod. “But one that needs to be told.” he says.  
My coffee cup halfway to my mouth, I pause. “I suppose it does.”  
“However, most people do not know the events that transpired in Edolas, and I do not know myself. It would have to be a collaboration, and even then, we might miss several details. I am not fond of having my information incorrect.”  
“But they do need their story to be told.” Bickslow argues, looking up at me. I finally notice that he’s wearing just his boxers and helmet. He seems attached to it.  
“Granted, they do, but there are many events that seem unbelievable that actually happened. For example, the Oblivion Crisis, which was absolutely terrible for mortals in every country and continent, which no one would remember because it happened so long ago. The belief systems of the Old World as well were forgotten long ago, and no one but several people and sects remember them or honor them. They’re still there, influencing the world, but they are not known enough to be able to make them fear their wrath. Mortals and Gods should know of each other, and be able to communicate freely. Time, however, and the mortals of the 4th Era were easily swayed to the path of the Divines. The Divine Light, they called it.”  
I scoff. “I worship the path of Darkness, through Sithis and the Night Mother, and all the Daedric Lords, because I am their Champion, and I will never die. My loyalty can not be swayed from such ties.”  
“Sithis?”  
I mentally hit myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  
Smiling, I say, “Something for a different day.”


	7. Painful Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Slam by Pendulum.

We watch the sunrise in the kitchen while having breakfast, as the view isn’t quite the same as it is at the estate. Fruit accompanies the pancakes, which were practically drowning in maple syrup and jam, courtesy of Bickslow.  
“They’re better to enjoy that way.” he says, laughing maniacally, then shoving yet another forkful of the golden delicacy into his mouth.  
“I don’t even understand how you do that. Is one of the requirements of being a boy that you have a portal to a different dimension in your stomach?” I reply, holding a piece of my own food on a fork, just watching the syrup drip off of it onto the plate again.  
“I am a man, thank you very much.” Bickslow replies, sounding slightly offended in a mocking way.  
“I’m sure you are, what with the immaturity and all.” I say, finally taking a bite. It’s surprisingly good, although the balance between the syrup and everything else needs work.  
He just laughs again, then takes the opportunity to add more food to his plate. I just shake my head. “Unbelievable.”  
Bickslow happily chews his breakfast and swallows, which looks rather painful, actually.  
“Finish up. We’ve got to catch the train at 9, and that’s in the evening.”  
“Why the evening?” he questions, licking his plate for the remnants of the syrup with his very long tongue.  
“Because, dummy, I don’t own the train lines, regrettably, and I can’t just have them make stops willy nilly to accommodate my needs. For once.” I say, looking at him and throwing a dish towel to wipe the remaining syrup off of his face.  
“So why do we have to do this so early?” he asks again, looking at me slightly distrustfully.  
I smile deviously. “Because you’re going to be my pack mule.”  
“..... Dammit.”  
I’d cackle, but I like being sane-ish.

Bickslow finishes loading the last box of supplies onto the waiting compartment. It’ll detach once we get to the last stop, then be unloaded for me by me. Well, Bickslow, mainly. From there, I can have it attached to any train I want at my leisure later on.  
“Wow, you’re a slacker. We have to go.”  
“I don’t..” he grunts under the strain of the box which is full of Dwarven Scrap Metal I’ve yet to melt down. “.... see you…..” he takes a step, getting that much closer to the train car. “... helping.”  
Bickslow heaves the box onto the carriage of the cart, and steps back to look at his handiwork. He dusts his hands off, and says, “There. That should do it.”  
I look at the rest of the boxes, which still need to be loaded onto the cart. We’ve got about ten minutes, and it takes him about 5 to move one. I can’t say I blame him, though, these things are downright heavy to an extreme point. It’s not even funny anymore.  
Although, the first few times, those were funny. After that the joke got old.  
I sigh, and once he picks up the next one, I help, by picking up the other half of the weight.  
“There, see? I’m helping.” I say, understanding why he’s so out of breath.  
“Oh, please. I’m doing all the heavy lifting.” he states, and I glare at him.  
“I can make you take all of these up the hill of the estate, you know. Don’t try me.”  
He looks rather frightened by that, and we move the next few boxes into the car in no time.  
“Finally. Can I sleep for a year now?” he asks, sitting in our personal compartment and groaning as he cracks his back.  
I frown, and hum. “Hmm, no, not yet. I do still have things to show you.”  
His eyebrow goes up. “Show me?”  
I look up at him from the book I’m writing in, and glare, mouthing the word, ‘People.’  
His face twists slightly, and he nods almost imperceptibly, moving his right hand in response.  
I shake my head internally, and continue writing, with Bickslow eventually moving over to my side because he says he’s bored. It is a long train ride, after all.  
He’s leaning his head on my shoulder, his eyes are closed, and soon enough, he’s asleep.  
Little puffs of breath blow across my skin, and I sigh in contentedness. This is nice.  
Then I sigh again, for real. How am I going to tell him?  
And how am I going to convince myself that it’s true?  
I turn back to my writing, hoping it proves to distract myself in some way. I hope that Serana and I are wrong about this.  
Oh, how I hope….  
But, that box in the library will tell me if I am, or if I’m not, just by attempting to open it.  
I don’t know if I want to try or not.

Eventually, it’s about 3 in the morning, and the train finally reaches our destination. I shake Bickslow awake, and he yawns and stretches, almost hitting me in the face.  
“Let’s go, lazybones. We’ve got to unload without the help of the porters, and they might leave soon.” I state, jumping to my feet to avoid getting hit by Bickslow.  
“Ugh. I have to move so early? That’s unfair.” he says, getting up and stretching some more, standing on the toes of his feet and towering over me. I’m about five foot ten inches, and this guy’s almost ridiculously taller than me. It’s just not cool.  
Of course, the train’s actually staying at the station for a good two hours or so, and even by myself, I’d be able to take the crates to the estate in that time period. Well, at least off the train.  
Bickslow does move diligently, though, taking care when I tell him to. There are certain crates that have soul gems in them, made by Serana, or found, whatever. She has a certain portal to another plane of reality in her house, courtesy of her mother. I have one, too, but I don’t often go there by myself. It’s creepy there, and I lose track of time way too quickly. No one should go in there if they’re not a vampire. I have a suspicion that they’d wander for days, weeks, months, possibly even years before they’d find the exit and get out. Even if it was a few moments, it’d be a huge drain on their energy.  
I also haven’t had the time to experiment with it, see just how long someone can be in there. Well, actually, it’s pretty long, for a vampire at least. Valerica, Serana’s mother, was in there for thousands of years. At least from the First Era to the Fourth. A long time to be alone.  
I know.  
Bickslow’s managed to get the majority of the boxes off the train, and I saunter up to them, looking through them and finding the heaviest. Not to torture Bickslow, though. I’ll take them up first. These are the worst ones.  
Proof that I’m not entirely a heartless, soulless monster.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. You can see souls, can’t you, with your eyes?” I say to Bickslow, two boxes hovering around my head with the power of Telekinesis. I monitor the spell with ease, as I’ve done it thousands of times, but it’s still temperamental.  
“Yeah, I can. What of it?” he says back in an almost grunt. His dolls are each carrying one of the lighter boxes each with magic string contraptions he made on the spot, with Marionette Magic out of some string I had on me. Two of the heavier crates are sitting on his shoulders, both of his hands occupied with keeping them steady.  
“Can you see your own soul?” I ask, legitimately wondering. I’ve never encountered someone who can do something like this before, such potent magic with the combination of Figure Eyes that are so dangerous he has to wear a mask wherever he goes.  
“No, I can’t. It’s kind of one of the rules, I guess.” he states, shifting one of the boxes a bit.  
“One of the rules. Huh. Can you see my soul?” I question, looking sideways at him without turning my head as to break my concentration.  
He shifts his other hand and shoulder. “I don’t actually know.”  
I frown. “What do you mean?”  
“All I see is something kind of like a dragon, but I’ve never seen one before, so it’s hard to tell exactly. It’s black and shadowy, too, so there’s not really any telling what it is right now. It’s curious, because I’ve seen Natsu’s and Gajeel’s, as well as Laxus’ souls, plus those guys at the Grand Magic Games, but they’ve been clearly a human’s. But yours…. yours is an actual dragon, as far as I can tell.”  
We reach the gate to the estate, and I drop the boxes off just inside. “That’s something to think about, I suppose. We’ll have to go back for the rest of the supplies now.”  
He sets his own boxes down, along with his dolls’ crates. “Ugh, again?”  
I laugh, shouting over my shoulder, “Do you want to beat me?”  
He zooms past me, down the hill, and I chuckle. “Ah, Bickslow. You’re so full of energy and life. What shall I ever do without you?”  
My face darkens, and I say again, grimly, “What will I do without you?”  
I can hear him yelling in the distance about winning, or maybe he’s just randomly screaming for fun, and I shake off my depressing thoughts, starting down the hill as well. He’s gonna regret running down the hill instead of walking.

“Well, well. Can’t keep up, can you?” I call over my shoulder at Bickslow, who’s struggling to carry two crates up the hill. Lucky him, they’re ebony ingots and refined moonstone.  
He does nothing but grunts, steadily walking forward as fast as he can.  
I laugh, and start running faster, tugging along the crates and reaching the estate in about two minutes, before lightly jogging down the slope again, passing Bickslow.  
I’m already holding up my next crate, with two smaller ones in my unoccupied arm, when I see Bickslow racing down the slope.  
“I won’t let you beat me!” he yells out, and takes up three instead of his usual two.  
I smirk, and sprint up the hill, pushing the boxes away from me into the estate with Telekinesis. He’s still trying to catch up with me, and he’s reaching where I am when I halt, and cast Telekinesis, bringing up the rest of the crates, sending them soaring over Bickslow’s head into the estate’s grounds.  
He stops, about to race back down, then turns around to look at me. “Why didn’t you do that in the first place?!” he shouts.  
I shrug, smiling. “It was fun to watch you. Besides, you still get to carry them into the house. Does that help?”  
He grumbles, but picks up the boxes, with me helping to get them into the actual house.  
Ah, loyalty. How I have missed having your presence near me.  
I snap open my eyes, unaware they had closed. I shall have to do something about that; loyalty can be very helpful, or extremely volatile. Either way, I need it, or, rather, want it, on my side.  
Hmm. Where does Bickslow’s loyalty lie? With his guild, Fairy Tail, the mark on his tongue? Or with Laxus, the mark in his mind?  
…. Or is it with me?  
I don’t even want to know what claim I have on him.  
Do I?

Bickslow’s lying exhausted on the roof, and I climb up, chuckling when I see him. “You shouldn’t run down a hill when you’re going to run right back up. Would you like some breakfast, though?”  
He perks up at the mention of food, and I chuckle again as he devours practically half the sustenance in the basket.  
“Are we training today?” he asks, rejuvenated by the food he just ate. He’s still eating, but slower this time. There’s a sane amount of an apple still in his hand, and he’s taking smaller bites rather than just popping it in his mouth.  
I shrug, taking a bite of a blood-red apple. I just like the color. “Possibly. I don’t know what we’ll cover next, though. We could do anything, but since we covered Marionette Magic, we could move to something farther away from the basic magic, or at least from the one you’re familiar with.”  
He’s eaten an apple and moves to a croissant. I take back what I said before, he still eats insanely.  
“What about elemental magic?” he asks, looking at me instead of the horizon. The sun has yet to rise.  
“What type? There’s ice, fire, water, earth, lightning, wind, basically everything, actually. I can teach you about spell absorption at the same time, though.” I say, looking at the horizon and seeing everything in perfect clarity thanks to Night Vision.  
“Spell absorption?” he asks, pausing his eating and not turning his gaze away from me.  
I sigh, turning to face him. I can see his eyes glowing behind his mask. “It’s a technique to use a wizard’s magic against him. It doesn’t negate magic, but it can basically transfer one mage’s magic to another, taking the energy put into the spell and adding it to yours.”  
“Permanently?” he asks, looking slightly shocked.  
“No. Nothing is really permanent in the magical world besides power. Once you’ve used it in your own spells, it’ll go back to the person.” I say, turning back to the sunrise and stretching out my body on the slanted surface of the roof. My left hand is cushioning my head, with my right bringing the apple to my mouth.  
He pauses, looking at me. “How do you know about that?”  
“I was one of the only mages in the Old World that knew enough to do that, and I advanced the magic myself. Used to be you had to do it with wards instead of the actual magic. Took a long time to develop, even with the help of my friends in the magic business.”  
“The kidnapper again?” he growls out, his shoulders tense. Interesting.  
“Yeah, Neloth’s always interested in stuff like that. Scares the hell out of most people, but he’s usually on the side of good. Or at least the side of magical research.”  
He nods, but he’s still tense. Very interesting.  
“Did you ever work with him closely?” he asks, facing the sunrise.  
“I did, but mostly to find things, or I was an experimental test subject. Eventually he perfected that spell about silence, but that was a strange experience. Not fun for anyone, even me. Anyway, not really anymore. Don’t know where he is, don’t really care, he’s crazy enough to attract the Madgod’s attention and insane enough to rebuke it. A good resource, but not a very good friend.”  
He relaxes a bit, and sighs quietly in relief. I smile to myself, taking another bite of my apple.  
“You know, this is the most fun I’ve had in centuries.” I say, sighing and eating the rest of my apple.  
“Really? I would’ve thought this would be stressing anyone out.” he says, not turning away from the horizon. I consider him, not moving any part of my body, just looking at him.  
“It’s fun, actually. Although, I’ve never had an apprentice before, so I don’t even know what I’m doing, but, hey, that’s my life. Don’t ever know what I’ll do in a day.”  
“You’ve never had an apprentice before?” he sounds shocked, or at least surprised.  
“Heh. Nope. Makes things interesting, don’t you think? But, there’s a first time for everything. And as much as I hate saying that, it’s fairly true.” As I finish saying it, the sun peeks up over the horizon, in between the mountains in the distance.  
Bickslow leans back, whistling. “That’s…. that’s….. wow.”  
I chuckle a bit, sitting up and joining him in his pose. We stay like that for a while, until I feel the need to move. I’m there for a while.

“Again. Try and focus on draining the energy out of the object.” I say, sipping tea lightly and relaxing on the patio to the left of the house as you walk in. I specially picked the furniture- it resists destruction in case of emergency. Cost a lot, though.  
“I am!” he shouts at me, growling in frustration.  
Bickslow puts his hands back on the tree, which he’s attempting to drain the energy out of. It’s a very complicated spell and power set; a branch of it is used by a member of Lamia Scale. He, he would have provided a challenge, or at least something to squash with mild difficulty.  
He concentrates, and I use Vision of the Tenth Eye (5) to watch how his magic is being used.  
It’s flaring out, uncontrolled and wild. Discipline is needed, or at least practice. I do, however, see that his visor shimmers in magical restraints. I gasp quietly. It’s the strongest magical artifact I’ve ever seen.  
It’s more powerful than the things I surround myself with daily. It’s powers dampen his magical field, and if it didn’t, I think that he could seriously harm a person without any conscious effort or drain.  
His magical potential is the greatest I’ve ever seen. I’ve known some of the greatest mages in the world. What is it with him? I’m sure he wasn’t this strong when we first met.  
My breath hitches in my throat. Of course. Damn you, Serana. You should have told me before hand.  
Bickslow’s attempts stop and pulls me out of my thoughts.  
“I can’t do it.” he says, fists balled and shaking in anger. His usual laughter is gone.  
“Wait. Do not give up.” I say, rising from my chair and walking over to where he is, about a foot from the tree.  
“I can’t do it!” he yells, pushing me back a bit with his hands.  
I feel a tingle, like a single drop of magic racing away from me, and grab his hands, pushing them on the tree.  
Instantly, it withers and droops.  
“See? You can. But it takes something,”

“Most people can’t actually even begin to process or copy the magic you just did.” I say, washing Bickslow’s hands in cold water. The process of the magical drain the first time you practice it is straining, to say the least.  
“I felt…. alive.” he says, breathing heavily. The process is different for everyone.  
“Hmm. Interesting. Anything else?” I ask, focusing on drying my apprentice’s hands- yes, think of it like that- and being gentle. That spell damages skin and tendons most of the time in penance for the removal of energy from another being. Of course, the type of being is important as well. Those that are using it on an inanimate object usually don’t have any problems with it, or if they do, they’re usually minor and easily fixed. But a person, or an animal? The very first time casting a spell like that is excruciating. I should know; I went through it.  
“I felt the tree’s lifespan…. all it’s memories….. it’s soul. It was like it drained into me.”  
I pause, considering his response while laying down the towel. “That’s…. unusual. Did you feel any pain?”  
He shakes his head no. “No, nothing other than that. I mean, I felt joy and hardship and happiness, but no pain.”  
“Interesting. I’ve never heard of something like that happening. It could be your connection to souls through your Seith Magic, and now Marionette Magic, but I don’t think it’s a serious contender for the cause of this specifically.”  
Bickslow cocks his head to the side. “You don’t?”  
I shake my head like he did only a moment ago. “I don’t. It’s very intriguing, though. I didn’t have that experience myself; but then again, I used it on a human in a fight on accident.”  
“How did that go?” he asks, rubbing his right hand with his left.  
“Not well.” I grimace, recalling the event. “Hurt like Dragonfire, and lingered for a good deal longer.”  
He laughs, and I smack him on the back of the head before looking at the clock. “It’s one o’clock. Want to eat?”  
Bickslow nods. “Always!”  
I roll my eyes, and smile as I turn away. “What do you want?”  
“Pasta!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5) Spell learned in search of Master Level Illusion Spells in the College of Winterhold.


	8. Considerations and Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter's song is Starswirl the Bearded by Evening Star.

I hum to myself as Bickslow continues his work, trying to restore the tree back to it’s former glory. Honestly, I expected it to lose, maybe, a few leaves. A total annihilation of the tree’s spirit is…. astounding.  
Considering his magical strength, it’s not very surprising, but it’s interesting, to say the least. I haven’t actually heard of this happening, but I believe something in the proximity is increasing his magical stamina and strength.  
… Ugh. I need to stop making such stupid remarks about this. It’s ridiculous. Preposterous.  
Hopefully.  
I sigh. I like my independence. Not that it’d be a bad thing, but it’s not something that I find myself being reliant on. You know, the whole other people thing. I’m bad at that. Never liked people to begin with and never have. Maybe even never will.  
I grimace at myself, glancing over to Bickslow to see if there’s any indication of the change that Serana told me about. I hope not, but…. Hmm. Physical training. I could probably make it work. Tests for me, regular training for him. Normal sounding stuff, but increasingly easy for vampires.  
The person in question walks over to me, grinning. “Fixed it!”  
I give the tree a once over, running my palms around it’s bark and feeling for any drains or cracks. It’s perfectly as it was only an hour ago.  
“You’re progressing much more rapidly than I expected a person could.” I state, still examining the tree.  
“Eh? What do you mean by that?” he asks, confused.  
I smirk, walking towards the house so he can’t see it. “You’ll find out soon enough. Maybe. Maybe not. I’d actually not want to know myself.”  
Bickslow follows grudgingly, still confused. “You have things you don’t want to know about? You? Who has an entire tower devoted to books?”  
“Actually, there are three separate rooms in this estate devoted to books and another devoted to powerful artifacts, some of which you’ll be reading before your training is done. They’re the most dangerous things in existence, and 5 of them in there might not even be real. Of course, that number fluctuates increasingly. Space and time are malleable when you’re written by the gods themselves, and even they do not actually know what they can do in it’s entirety.”  
“Are you talking about the Daedra?” he asks, still following me.  
“No.” I say, climbing the steps to the library yet again. “These are Elder Scrolls. I have 5; they are also called Kel by the Dov.” I chuckle a bit at that. “I have one named Dov, actually. The others are Blood, Sun, Time, and one that even I have not dared to read- Death.”  
Bickslow stops, and I turn, looking at him curiously. “Why do you have something named Death?”  
“Oh, does that name disturb you? Just because something causes death does not mean that they are evil.”  
“Yes, they are!” he growls out at me.  
“Then is an owl evil? It kills mice and small creatures to eat; is that not the same concept?” I ask, not sure what I am doing. Why am I talking about this to someone outside my Family? Should I say that?  
“Well, no, but that’s entirely different!”  
“No, you see, it’s not. What if it’s self defense? What if it was for revenge? What if it was out of desperation? What if a divine being told you to? Would you do it? Could you?” I say, stepping closer to him with every sentence.  
“That’s different than outright murder!” he claims, and I’m so close I can see the glow of his eyes through his mask.  
“Oh? But what if Fate has planned everything from the beginning? What if that divine being has it written into your very soul that you are to do this and that?” I gesture with the last phrase, emphasizing my point.  
“What if free will doesn’t exist? If every choice we make is something we’re predestined to do, and not out of our own power? What then?” I continue, trying to nail in my point.  
I take a few steps back, and huff. “You know, I’m a murderer. And I’m proud of it because I serve my Dread Father Sithis and the Night Mother. Those that I send to join Sithis in the depths of the Void are most likely terrible people. If someone has cause to send someone to kill a person, then that person must have ruined the victim’s life, or caused some serious harm, at the very least. Not all killers are bad, as well as not all people are good. Think before you open your mouth, Bickslow.”  
I turn away and resume my walk towards the library. My armor clinks slightly as I move, it’s arms and back joined together to make a kind of cape resembling a bird’s wings. (6)  
Oh, to be as free and fickle as a Nightingale.

I set out books for Bickslow, assuming he’ll make it to the library before the night is over, and grab my journal that I left here accidentally last time. Tsk. I’m getting comfortable.  
Retreating to my study, I find a message waiting for me. I made a lacrima myself specifically for thought projections to use that are allowed through, to leave messages. Of course, it also looks pretty cool, so I use it as a paperweight.  
I tap it, and on goes the message.  
“Listener, it’s Cicero, but you probably already know that. Nelkir and Aventus just turned in their contracts, and they’ve taken the last of them. Babette and I tried to talk them into taking a vacation and getting a honeymoon before they get married, which Nelkir finally proposed, thanks for that, it was getting stuffy in here, or even to go over wedding plans or something like that, but they refused. Anyway, we’re going to need more contracts soon, so please stop by to the Sanctuary to listen to Mother soon. As in, perhaps, the next few days? Two? One? Erm, ahah, Cicero is sorry Listener. I’ll stop now. Babette sends her love and demands you bring her a blood pie.”  
I smile at Cicero’s faint image and antics, then frown. I do not wish to leave Bickslow here alone when I just told him I’m essentially a criminal. Sithis, I didn’t even want to tell him in the first place, but it’s smarter to tell him now so he can freak out and then tell him other things and watch him freak out over those later.  
Of course, there’s always Serana’s answer. ‘For all I know, you could have none. You could have seven hundred!’  
I sigh. I do not want to find out through experimentation even if that happens. It is something I do not wish for it to happen.  
My thoughts stroll out of my mind and into the pages of my journal, by my absent-minded right hand. I can’t, for the life of me, write with my left hand. Or draw. I’m terrible. Heh. One thing I’m bad at.  
I slam the book shut, though it did nothing harmful to me at all, and force it into the locked compartment of my desk. The room darkens, the fire dwindling due to my frosty mood and temperature. (7)  
As soon as I know that Bickslow is asleep, I’ll open the damn chest and find out whatever the hell Serana can’t, or won’t, tell me!  
To hell with the rules now! I’m done with it! I want- no, need to know! This is not even anything remotely fair, world. But, then again, I did not expect you to play fair in any kind of fight.  
My hands rest on my heart, drawing out the key that Serana gave me, tied to a ribbon around my neck. I consider the thing, it shining dully in the light. The luster has long since abandoned it, and it matches the chest perfectly.  
You tiny, tiny, inanimate object. You hold my fate, and my apprentice’s, in your non-existent hands.

It’s three in the morning, and it occurs to me that I’ve been staring at this key for about 7 hours or so. Wow. I really do have too much time on my hands.  
I sigh, and stand up, closing my fist around the key. It might be the time.  
Of course, I do not expect to find Bickslow tumbling through the door to the study when I open it, which, thanks to my quick reflexes, make him spill out onto the carpet of my study.  
“Oh, uh…. heh, heh. I, uh, want to talk to you about earlier.” he says, smiling sheepishly.  
“What about it?” I say, crossing my arms and looking at him curiously. I’m genuinely curious.  
“What divine being is Sithis?”  
I chuckle. “Ah, Sithis. He is neither Daedra or Aedra; he is nothingness, the Void, and our Dread Father. His influence created the Night Mother, who had five children by him, then slaughtered them all at his command. Gruesome, isn’t it?”  
Bickslow nods. “That’s not really what I was thinking he was.”  
“Well, you can’t really explain Sithis, either. He is everything and nothing, all at once. He is often represented as a skeleton by us, but truthfully, he is so much more.” I say, offering my hand to Bickslow, still on the ground.  
“You said a divine being, though, right?”  
“Divine can have different meanings. I consider myself partially divine and partially wretched. When the owl kills to eat, is that evil?”  
“No, it’s survival. It does what it has to do.”  
“Then one could say that all killing is out of necessity, by the parts of the soul that have been written over and imbued with the information that guides us in our lives and endeavours. Of course, I don’t actually know how to see souls, so that’s really your finesse.” I say, leading him out of the room and down a hallway. I don’t know where we’re going.  
“Yeah, I thought about it, and I don’t think you are evil.”  
My world brightens. Is that Night Vision? No, no it’s not. What is this?  
“Good, because I do do good things as well as what some might consider to be bad. You’ll learn about those too. Maybe.”  
I turn to look at him. “Get ready to leave. I have to do something, and the town we’re going to will be heavily monitored by the Royal House and Fairy Tail itself. Your guild wants you back from me, and you’re easily the most talented person I’ve ever come across. You’re not leaving until you know every single piece of magic I know, and that I can teach. Wear normal clothing.”  
My armor clinks again as I turn away, opening a door that wasn’t there before and taking the steps two at a time. Inside, I grab ten different illusions for Bickslow, and twelve for me. It’s not entirely necessary to have so many, but I like being careful. And, besides, with Fairy Tail out and about, magical detectors are probably going to be given to the guild members to see if there’s a person with magic that is incognito.  
Ugh. They are my bane.  
Well, not actually, but, it’s hard to be disguised when those things are sniffing around you and you’re basically a pure magic creature.  
Of course, there are guilds that I have very good friends in, that even trust me enough to let me make an illusion of them. They’re very useful when I want to go incognito.  
I pick up the illusions and equip them, turning into an average-sized girl with black and white striped hair. Smiling, I pull on a blue crop top with jeans and boots, fashioning my new hair back into a bun. Sadly, it can’t hold all the hair, and some of it tumbles down my back. I put on long earrings, and add on a terrifying armor, to requip into. A lot of people use Holder magic with armor and weapons; Requipper magic is a terribly powerful, but terribly shared, magic.  
The more people that have Holder magic and use it, the more it diminishes.  
The armor itself is a special armor, striking fear into the hearts of your enemies. It’s Nightmare Butterfly armor, made by the first guildmaster of that guild.  
The wings are in tatters, made from the souls of Night Butterflies and their enemies fallen in battle. It’s a Dark Guild, so not many people are surprised by the nature of the armor. Anyway, I summon my own puppets, made of dragon bone and scales, embedded with gems. Seith Magic is one of my specialties; it’s ever so much fun.  
“Bickslow, you ready? Let’s go.” I call out, walking down the stairs and closing the door behind me, it shimmering out of existence.  
“Yeah, I’m ready. Er…. what are you wearing?” he says, pausing in his tracks.  
“Like it? It’s an illusion. I’ve got armor to requip into if I need to, though. Which reminds me…. You’ll have to be doing Marionette Magic, or the Magic Drain, not Seith Magic. Your puppets-”  
“My babies!” he interjects, looking angry.  
“Well then, excuse me, your babies are very recognizable. You can change them into other puppets, though, can you not?” I ask, flicking my hand at his ever-obedient dolls floating by him.  
“Hmm. I don’t have any others.” he says.  
“Here.” I toss several puppets at him, like mine, made of dragon scales and bone. “If anyone asks, you use Seith Magic as a back-up to Marionette magic, using Souls. They won’t question it.”  
“Oh, and think of a name for yourself.” I say, walking down the stairs to the entrance hall, throwing the illusionary jewelry at him, watching him catch it.  
“And you are?” he asks, his voice the same. I can’t change that without magical influence, and those are usually visible and highly suspect.  
“Kantorica. I work for the Nightmare Butterfly guild, and use the requipping magic and Seith Magic as a back up.”  
“Why?” he asks, vaulting over the railing with his new puppets being used and wearing the disguise.  
“Because my puppets have been retired for far too long. They haven’t gotten any adventure at all lately!”  
He chuckles. “You’re just like me with them, aren’t you?”  
I smile at him. “Perhaps I am. Now, what’s your name?”  
Bickslow pauses. “Uh, how about Darian?”  
“It works. Let’s go, Darian. We can work out the fine points on the train ride over.”  
Bickslow grins, not sticking out his tongue, probably trying to get into character. Well, maybe. I don’t know him well enough to say that, really.  
I summon Arvak, and we ride down the hill. Trying not to focus on how warm he is next to me on my faithful horse, I watch the world around me.  
It’s even more beautiful than I remember. Maybe it’s the person with me.  
It might be about 4 in the morning, but that’s good. I always have something in pocket dimensions to look innocent with.  
I don’t reach for it now, because it’d be kind of useless now. There’s no use for it, and anyway, I don’t exactly like looking cute with it, which I apparently do. Fearsome and terrifying is much more my style. The dark and more obscure, the better. Like magic with me, I just can’t get enough.  
“Hey, Kantorica? There’s an empty compartment over here.” Bickslow, er, Darian says.  
“Aww, you’re so sweet! Thank you. Let’s, shall we?” I say, easily remembering how my friend in this guild acted. She was so strange that way; acting one way and talking the other.  
To his credit, he doesn’t react strangely, just smiling and inviting me into the compartment. They’re separated by glass windows, with pull-down shades. Privacy in public. Ha.  
Bickslow sits across from me, and I survey his outfit. It’s sort of simple, actually. A button-down white shirt, tucked into plain jeans with a belt. He’s wearing thick shades, though, in place of his helmet.  
“I’ve never seen you without your helmet, actually. Why don’t you just wear glasses normally?”  
He shifts. “I like my helmet; it’s comfortable and mysterious. Besides, I’d have to wear something like this every day. Normal glasses aren’t strong enough to hold back the power in my Figure Eyes. These just barely cut it, and even now, I don’t want to look anyone in the eye if I don’t have to.”  
I smile. “Power is power, but everything that is powerful has a price to be paid. Sadly, most of the time, they deem it necessary to take something everyone else has in lieu of anything else.”  
I turn to the window, and watch the landscape outside gradually speed up.  
It’s rather hypnotizing, and before long, Bickslow’s asleep. I marvel at the cuteness that he exudes, even when covered by an illusion.  
Ah, damn. I’ll have to open it with him as well, won’t I?  
Sigh. Not very fun. I’ll have to explain more. I hate explaining things.  
My eyes return to Bickslow’s sleeping frame. But, this time, it’s worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (6)- Think Nightingale armor, but off-white and gray.  
> (7)- The house responds to my thoughts and moods, courtesy of my hands building it oh so long ago.


	9. Happenings are (Usually) Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Equestria in Gray by Omnipony.

Eventually, I have to wake Bickslow up. “Darian, wake up. We’ve got to get off the train.”  
He moves around, squirming, hiding from my glare.  
“Get up now.”  
Bickslow’s up in a flash, and stumbling around the compartment, towards the door. I roll my eyes, and guide him off the train. He’s still half asleep.  
“C’mon, Darian, you’ve got to pull yourself together, we’re not gonna get this done if you don’t!” I say to him, helping him off the train, one arm around his shoulder and supporting his weight.  
We get off the train, finally, and I’m tempted to punch him to wake him up. Sadly, though, he’s yawned and stretched, and now he’s awake. I glare at him. “You have terrible timing.”  
He stretches a bit more. “For you maybe, but not me.”  
I sigh, pulling my basket out into existence. Always have to do shopping when I’m in cities, now, don’t I? With it, comes my puppets. They’re black, in claw shapes mostly. The represent my organization. “Let’s go.”  
“Spread out! We’ve got to find him before that witch gets her claws into him anymore than she has!” I hear a voice shout. Glancing over to the source, I see a huge crowd. Looking closer, though, I see it’s the red-haired girl from before, at the Legendary Games. Erza Scarlet, wasn’t it? Or is it Titania Erza? Erza Titania Scarlet?  
Anyway, whatever her name is, she’s bad news.  
I scan the crowd. It’s the biggest names from Fairy Tail.  
Laxus, Gildarts, Erza, Mirajane, that pink-haired guy, the ice wizard, that one girl that doesn’t seem to do anything, Gajeel the Iron-Dragon Slayer, that little girl, the little girl with pigtails, the three cats with wings, Evergreen, Freed, the man-obsessed guy, the chick from Phantom Lord, a girl with short white-blond hair, and the drunkard with card magic.  
Well, not the biggest, maybe, especially since Makarov’s not here.  
Oh well. Less trash for me to deal with.  
“Let’s go, Darian. We’ve got no time to waste.”  
The huge crowd breaks up, and I force myself to maintain a calm exterior and keep walking at a normal pace.  
“You there!” shouts a person behind us. I groan, roll my eyes, and turn around.  
“What do you want?” I growl out, Bickslow standing beside me, slightly back.  
It’s the pink-haired guy.  
“You! You’re Listener, aren’t you! I knew it!” He follows up his declaration with an attack, completely disregarding the civilians. Heh. That’s what I thought he’d do.  
“Well, if it’s a fight you want, you’ll get it.” I say as I backflip, avoiding his Fire Dragon attacks. I can tell, even though he hasn’t said anything about it yet.  
“You’re goin’ down, Listener!” he says, launching another attack, flying at me.  
“I think not.” I shimmer, bringing into effect the armor. Leaping away, I take up a water spell, and throw it at him. It’s a more complicated form of Water Lock, and I combined it with a Magical Drain spell. It’s leeching out his magic energy right now. He’ll be alright in a week or so, but not so during the fight.  
“Look, Lucy! Natsu’s underwater!” screams an overly-cheerful voice, which I can see now comes from a cat.  
Ugh. This just got way more complicated and a whole lot more painful. But, interesting, too. This shall be fun. Hopefully.  
I roll my eyes, taking away one of my hands to perform a different spell. Ash Rune paralyzes the girl in ash, immobilizing her easily. The cat’s distracted as well.  
“What the hell is she doing?” I hear from another of the voices down below. I’m up on the rooftops, trying to lessen the damage caused by this peace-challenged guy.  
“It’s a Water Lock spell! But, it’s not like the ones I’ve cast in the past. It’s much stronger! I don’t think someone can break through it!”  
“If anyone can do it, Natsu can. He’s got more firepower than a chick in such stupid armor.”  
“What did I tell you? Don’t tell me Natsu just challenged the first girl he saw!” Erza Scarlet cries, running towards the small group congregating below. I’ve almost robbed him of his magical strength…  
“How should I know that? Natsu can’t even tell you, he’s in a Water Lock spell!”  
“Water Lock? But…. that’s not Water Lock!” she cries, requipping into an armor that looks rather demonic. “She’s using Magical Drain!”  
“What? That’s a thing?”  
That Erza Scarlet. If only she hadn’t split everyone up. Then he might’ve had a chance. Anyway, the pink one’s magic is drained, and I feel stronger than ever. Of course, I have to be careful. Fire Wizards tend to burn oneself if you’re not careful.  
“Ah, for the record, he attacked me. Seemed to think I was a friend of mine, Listener.” I drop back onto the road, which only has the group of wizards in it. It was cleared of civilians as soon as Natsu threw the first punch.  
“You’re not?” asks Erza Scarlet, standing in armor that goes well with her hair. It’s a very pretty color.  
“No. I am Kantorica, of the Nightmare Butterfly guild. I have somewhere to be, so you’ll have to excuse me. Darian.” I say, returning to my attire, my hair back to when it wasn’t out of place and all over. It’s annoying at some times, but hair magic is rather fun to play around with.  
“Kantorica?” asks newcomers to the group, closing off the way Bickslow and I came. In particular, it’s the small girl hovering by Gajeel Redfox.  
I turn and face them, Bickslow standing by my side again. He’s still sleepy, so I don’t really want another fight going down.  
Wait.  
I’m- I’m worried about someone?  
What is going on? Damn you Serana!  
“What of it?” I ask, my face stone cold and not affected by what I just realized.  
“You’ve joined a Dark Guild now, have you? Last I heard, you were a rogue.”  
Well, damn. My cover’s becoming flimsy. It’s so much easier when I just make them die. Also pretty easy to keep straight.  
“So? My life is none of your business.”  
“Ah, but you swore off Dark Guilds! You aren’t Kantorica at all! You are Listener!”  
“Tch.” I requip, dispelling the illusions for both Bickslow and I. His armor forms around him, as does my Bloodletter armor.  
“It’s the Listener. Not Listener, girlie. Respect your betters. You should learn from that.” My magic conjures a sword, and it’s Daedric. This is going to hurt. Them, not me.  
“I feel like there should be a catchphrase here that became tiring a long time ago.” I sigh, and Erza Scarlet requips, rushing the attack.  
“How dare you insult my friends!” she cries, holding a two-handed sword, lunging at me.  
“Tch. You’re lacking in your technique.” I dodge at the last second, performing a back handspring to regain my balance. She comes at me again, slashing forward this time, and I parry, bringing out another sword.  
“See, young Erza Scarlet? A two-handed sword approach is best when fighting something bigger than you that cannot block. They are bulky and inefficient compared to a normal sword, or daggers.” The last phrase, I slide in the small sword in through her armor, which, now that she’s closer, I see is the Purgatory armor.  
I remember that. I have it on a mannequin on the estate. That one is a copy. A very excellent one, but a copy nonetheless.  
“Every armor has it’s weak points. And every sword has its cracks.” As I say that, I push my sword, pressing against the hilt of the weapon. My eyes are a smith’s eyes; I can see the most minute detail in any piece of armor.  
My other hand drives in the sword, right into a chink in the armor. I twist it, probably rupturing some vital organs, or at least important.  
“Ah!” she gasps, and falls down.  
“That’s- that’s impossible! Erza can’t be down!” says the ice wizard. I should probably learn their names. Eh, it’s not important right now.  
“If Erza Scarlet was the best opponent you had to offer me, you should just let me pass.” I say, shrugging nonchalantly.  
“We’ll be more than you can handle! Thunder Dragon Roar!” yells Laxus, combining it with two others.  
“Iron Dragon Roar!”  
“Sky Dragon Roar!”  
“Feim Zii Gron!” I Shout in response, waiting out their magic. I can feel it passing through me. It’s always a curious sensation when you’re using this Shout with magic coursing through you. Not all bad, but not all pleasant.  
They end their combined attack, and I fully form again, no longer Ethereal. “What? But how is this possible?” asks Gajeel Redfox.  
“It is possible for someone of my strength. I possess magic that no one has seen in thousands of years. And will never see again, after I am gone. Which I never plan to be.” I say, wanting to see if they do anything about it.  
“I’ll show you! You laid it on Gramps, I’ll lay it on you!” shouts Laxus, leaping into the air with lightning surrounding his fists.  
“Oh, blood relations. I do so love it when you think you’re justified in that manner. It makes your losing all that much sweeter!” I say, throwing up a ward and readying a spell, Ash Shell. It should nullify any of his magic that I cannot block with my ward.  
I throw it on him at the last minute, with his fist connecting with the ward. I mostly just wanted to find out how powerful his attack spell is on a first basis.  
Hurrying, I find where he’s landed. It’s not far away. The rest of them are still focused on the fact that Laxus was taken down in one hit. One rune later, and thirteen seconds left on the clock, until he’s officially out of the game for this.  
Surprisingly, the next person to attack me is not Gajeel Redfox, as I expected it to be, but, rather, it was Freed and Evergreen.  
“How can you take one of the Thunder Legion and then so carelessly discard our leader?” screams Evergreen, letting loose her magic, including her Stone Eyes. It’s in vain, though. My eyes are fairly impervious to any special Eyes, especially when cloaked in illusions like I am.  
Freed attacks without speaking, just in his armor, flying at me.  
“FUS RO DAH!” I Shout, knocking him back and sending him into Evergreen. She’s dazed, at least.  
“You think to beat the Thunder Legion so easily?” she screams, completely facing the wrong way when she gets up.  
Okay then. I face Freed once more, and pull out one of my favorite spells, Chain Lightning. Careful to not let him get too close to me, I send it flying at him, doubly charged, and it zags between my opponents, zapping all of them fairly well.  
I send Thunderbolt at him as well, and it’s impact leaves him crashing into the side of the building Laxus is near to. Speaking of, he’s down for the count. Poison Rune does it’s work well here.  
“Who’s next?” I ask, happy to have a fight and a way to have nothing but the battle on my mind.  
That, however, is interrupted, when I see that Bickslow has just been put through a wall, and is currently unconscious. Ice forms around him, but the wizard Gray is down as well as Juvia Lockser, the water witch.  
“Do not touch my Lucy!” yells a familiar voice, accompanying the unusual sound of a Gate opening.  
“Leo.” I whisper, and scale the buildings beside myself to cross to the one where he’s standing.  
“You. How dare you touch my apprentice.” I say, my magic automatically flaring out and equipping the Ebony Mail for me. It’s poisonous cloud wreaks havoc around me. I’m so furious that it’s actually breaking apart the stone the building is made out of. Of course, he didn’t touch Bickslow, but I heard he slammed him through Magnolia.  
“I don’t like hurting Celestial Spirits, Leo. You should have known better than to make me angry. I’m terribly sorry I have to do this, though, but it can’t be helped.” I say, advancing menacingly. Between my hands is the Ebony Blade, something that I found out really, really hurts other people.  
“Ah, you’re also an endangerment to my Lucy. You’ll be drowned as well in my love for her.” Says the Lion. I see that his demeanour has not changed in the slightest since I last summoned him. It’s been a very long time.  
“You shall burn for this, young wizard.” I say, turning to the one Leo is referring to as Lucy.  
“Hey, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done it. Did it Magnolia before, actually.”  
I can’t even say anything. I feel my restraints snap.  
My restraints are specially designed for me, by me. Mostly because I know my magical approximate output and the field I create. They limit the amount of magic I can put into the world, to try and make a balance. However, this can happen.  
It hasn’t happened until now, though.  
My restraints go down, or at least some. Three in total, and that’s plenty.  
I charge at Leo, and he prepares to block my strike, but finds that I’ve cut right through it and past him.  
His gate closes around him, to afford him time to heal in the Celestial World, before he even knows what has happened.  
“Open! Gate of the Bovine Palace! Taurus!” yells Lucy, pulling a key out.  
Out pops Taurus, mooing and as perverted as ever. “Lucy-san!”  
“No time! Attack her!”  
He follows her orders, and using the Ebony Blade, I block his battle axe attack.  
“Taurus. Go back to your World.”  
He looks confused.  
“TAURUS! FORCED GATE CLOSURE!” I scream, and he dissipates.  
“Wha-what?” says Lucy, taken aback and stunned.  
“I made your keys, Lucy. I’m a Master Smith, after all. Those things you’re carrying? They’re copies of the originals that I have myself. And these two, you don’t have. Open, Gate of Libra! Open, Gate of Pisces!” I yell, whipping out the keys.  
“Libra, please keep the crowd below me busy. Pisces, if you will, please take care of that girl.” I state calmly, but my armor betrays my thoughts. It’s practically coating the tower with poison.  
“At once, Listener.” says Libra, leaping down and using her considerable magic on the ones below. I’ve always liked Libra specially. Pisces transform into their fish form, and I watch as Lucy takes out her keys, trying to summon something that can combat them from their relentless assault.  
“Open! Gate of the Scorpion! Scorpio!” she shouts, and into the battle comes Scorpio.  
“Sand Buster!” he yells out, firing at Pisces, but missing.  
“Wait, why am I fighting with these?” I sigh, looking at the key ring in my palm. “Sometimes I question my sanity.”  
I Shout, “Wuld!” and am next to Lucy in a second.  
“What? How did you-” she gets no farther, because I punch her in the face. I would have killed her, but I doubt that Scorpio and her Celestial Spirits would be very happy with me about it. I know they’re happy to have someone who respects them and treats them well.  
Well, that and Bickslow.  
Scorpio vanishes, and I make a mental note to call him in for casual talk. I’ve been wondering how he and Aquarius are doing. I set them up, took them ages.  
I close Pisces’ Gate, and give Libra a hug, since it’s been so long since I’ve seen her, before closing her Gate as well. The crowd below is not my priority now. Bickslow is.  
Quickly, I cast a sleeping spell, using both hands. Although it strains my power, it is worth it. I have no fear of being followed right now. The strongest members of Fairy Tail are down. I have no reason to be.  
Picking Bickslow up carefully, I carry him like a fragile object, because to me, everything is. Especially this person. He’s just so…..  
Ugh. Feelings.  
My face softens again from the repugnant expression it had just a moment ago, from my revelation, and I look at him. There’s nothing about him I’d change, and I hope that he stays the same.  
Well, mostly the same. His eyes, however, are too beautiful to stay locked away forever.  
I find the house, and answer the question, removing my glove and pressing my Black Hand against the door in the handprint. It’s there for a reason, after the traitor’s slip up in Keizaal.  
“Welcome home.” It says in it’s whisper of death, so like the Night Mother’s.  
So comforting.  
I hope one day it will be for the angel I have in my arms, as well.

“Listener! How are you-eh? But what is this? Why is there a stranger in our midst? Oh, is it a new Dark Brother or Sister? Is it a man? An animal? A mer? Oh, tell me, tell me!” says Cicero, hyperactive at the prospect of our Family growing.  
“Cicero, begone.” I say, and his form turns spectral for a moment, and he fades, back to the Void. My patience is gone right now.  
“Listener?” asks a quieter voice, Babette’s. Excellent. Just the person I wanted to see.  
“Can you heal him?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly. It hasn’t done that in years, millennia even.  
“Listener, are you okay?” she asks, looking at my face.  
“I don’t matter right now. Can you heal him?” I say, more forcefully this time. I do not trust myself to heal him when he is bleeding like he is right now, mostly because I am afraid that I may go berserk. Or not going berserk, either or.  
“Yes, I can. Get him to a bed, let’s go. Decimus wants to see you; he has some ideas for expanding our grip. The Night Mother’s in her usual room.”  
I lay Bickslow gently down on the bed, which has the finest furs that one can find. Well, actually, they’re age-cured, specially imbued with magic to resist everything, including decay over time. But that’s not important.  
Knowing that I’d probably just get in her way if I stayed, I leave, seeing to Decimus first. His part in the Brotherhood is the fact that he’s an excellent planner, and an even better assassin. His magic is Gun magic, specifically Sharpshooter. It’s strange though, because with his appearance, you would think anything but that.  
I walk through the Sanctuary, trying to remain calm, and I find it hard to get into the mindframe that I usually slip into with ease. Practiced ease, but ease nonetheless. I’m really worried, and that worries me in itself.  
Again, damn you feelings. Damn you too, Serana.  
I find Decimus planning, his stance so like the traitor’s long ago, up against the table, leaning over it. “What do you have planned, Brother Dearest?”  
“Listener. I’ve been wondering when you’d get here; I have several ideas as to what to do to expand successfully into Fiore. As you know, we’ve been struggling to get here and successfully set up shop for years, but I have found some new potential recruits. They’re similar to your apprentice, here and now.”  
I growl. “What does my apprentice have to do with any of this? And stop repeating the history I’ve lived back to me; I was there.”  
“Of course, Listener. These are the candidates I’ve found to be suitable, or at least helpful. Look through them at your leisure.”  
“Thank you, Decimus. I will. Do you have anything else?”  
He shakes his head. “No, I have a contract to go out on, so I’ll be seeing you, Sister. Walk always in the shadow of Sithis.”  
“You too, Decimus. Don’t lose your head out there, your hair is too awesome to die.”  
“Oh- one more thing, before I go. The tests on the prisoners; the results were promising. It could use some fine tuning, and the overall effect inhibited several parts of their life, but with a bit of work and a mentally strong person pulling the strings, it is definitely practical.”  
I grin, happy to hear this news. “Excellent. I am sure that Sithis is smiling upon you.”  
He smiles at this slightly, and exits the room, leaving the Sanctuary itself.  
I sigh. I should probably summon Cicero again, but I do not wish to do so now. I have to Listen to the Night Mother, and she’ll have a long list. We’ve become quite popular, or useful, however you look at it, on the other landmass formerly known as Tamriel.  
Grabbing charcoal, ink, quills, and parchment, I trudge into her room, closing the door behind me, and opening her coffin. “Night Mother, your Listener is here for you to speak.”  
“Yes, my child. There are several contracts wished to be made. But first, why is there a stranger in our Sanctuary?”  
I sigh again. “It’s a long story, Mother.”  
“You and I have all the time in the world. Speak to me, Listener, and I will listen for a change.”  
I smile at the Night Mother’s statement. She is truly a very welcoming and comforting Mother.  
“It all started after the Grand Magic Games, which I went to to scope out any potential new family members. Afterwards, there was this huge dragon attack, but I did not take any down; I was already out of the city, but not far. The fiasco was solved quickly, but afterwards, they hosted a Legendary Games, to determine any new Wizard Saints and see if anyone could beat them.  
“I made a bet with Makarov, Fairy Tail guild master. I’d won against all the others, except him. Giant magic user, I wanted a challenge. Didn’t find it. In the Grand Magic Games, most of the competitors made bets with each other, and I thought it would be fun to do so. If he beat me, I was supposed to leave everyone in his guild alone until he died, and fifty years after that. If I won, which I did, I picked one person to become my apprentice, with no strings attached or obligations to fill.”  
“Ah. That explains it, my child. But why did you bring him into the Sanctuary?”  
I sigh again, for perhaps the umpteenth time today. “His guild attacked us, they’re looking for him. They don’t seem to view this as something good, or something like that.”  
“Well, then, Listener, I believe you have told me all that you need to. Now, Listen closely, my child of darkness, for someone has whispered in the ear of the Night Mother….”  
I smile, and write down the names as quick as I’m able. It’s good to be home.


	10. Cursed Feelings and Possible Recruits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Alone Together by Fall Out Boy.

“... and the last one who has whispered in my ear is Nevartius Kellandriel, in Magnolia.”  
“Thank you, sweet mother. We shall complete these contracts as Sithis intends, bound in blood.”  
I exit the room, carefully closing the coffin and the door behind me. Outside of the room, I yawn and stretch, my hand sore, neck and back stiff.  
After a refreshing stretching while walking session, I walk calmly towards where I know Bickslow is, but hear Babette’s voice before I’m down the hallway. That doesn’t bode well.  
I hurry my pace, nearly tripping, and get to the door. Opening it, I’m faced with Bickslow about five inches from my face, and Babette trying to hold him back.  
“Would you stop!” shouts Babette, and then looks up. “Oh, hello Listener. Bickslow was just about to try and find you.”  
Instead of saying anything, he backs away by a few feet, or ten.  
“I see.” I say, looking between Babette’s panting figure and Bickslow. “I hope that nothing bad happened while I was away?”  
“You can’t really blame me, I was being watched over by a girl I’ve never met or even seen before.” I hear Bickslow say. I grin.  
“True, but you could have looked around. The banners should have been a clue.” Said banners are stationary, but bear the insignia that I love and have almost everywhere in my house, or on an article of clothing. The Black Hand.  
“... Right.” he says, looking away.  
My eyes soften. “We can go soon, though. I’ve just got to give this to you, Babette. And here you are.”  
She accepts the scroll, heavier than normal, and looks at me, nodding clearly. “Thank you, Listener. I’ll take care of it.”  
“Excellent, thank you, Babette.” I say, wanting to say Sister, but knowing I probably shouldn’t in front of Bickslow.  
“Come on, Bickslow, we’re going. We’ve only been here for an hour and a half, your guild members are probably still unconscious.”  
“You knocked them unconscious?” he asks, coming over to where I’m standing.  
I walk out of the room, him trailing behind me. “Yes, most of them, I think. It was the best option.”  
“The best option….” I hear Babette say, faintly.  
“I didn’t think they’d do that. I’m sorry, Listener.” he says, looking away from me.  
I pause, him bumping into me. “Don’t be sorry for something someone else did for or to you. It was their decision and their choice. Don’t let it control you.”  
Bickslow is stunned into silence, and I resume walking, not having turned around at all for this.  
“Just because a person makes a choice that ends up being a mistake, it is not your fault. Never is it your fault.”  
He slowly continues walking, following.  
I wait for him at the exit of the Sanctuary, which leads to a long-forgotten path that looks treacherous and can be. Opening the door for him, I usher him out of it, and he waits for me in turn to lead the way.  
Of course, he slips, and almost falls off, but I grab his hand at the last minute and pull him towards me. Sadly, I underestimate my own strength, and pull him onto me instead of back to the ledge. His hands go out, and slam into the stone on either side of my head. We’re about two inches or so apart, and he realizes this, as do I.  
“Thanks. For catching me.” he says, looking away.  
“No problem. Can’t have you dying on me now, can I?” I say, trying to force my desire to run ahead and away from this awkward tension here and now, like I would normally do.  
But I can’t run away from him, can I?  
Curse this. I’m telling him soon.  
But, however, I do not want to be wrong, so I’ll look through the chest on my own first.  
Well, if I can sate his curiosity first. Bickslow will definitely want to know what I’m being so secretive about.  
Putting the thought to the back of my mind, I trudge forward, leading the way again and looking back occasionally to make sure he hasn’t fallen. The rest of the walk back to the outskirts of civilization is uneventful, and the blush on my face fades with time.  
I curse my feelings once again.  
They’re getting in my way.

“What exactly do you do there?” Bickslow asks, as we’re once again on the train, in our disguises first used. I don’t care for more confusion.  
I’m looking out the window, and turn to study my apprentice. Yes, keep it professional. Nothing unusual.  
“I Listen to the Night Mother and write down the names of the people who wish to have contracts with us. The contracts are bound in blood, and will be carried out as only professionals can.”  
“Professional assassins?” he states, his gaze level with mine.  
“Yes.” I say, feeling like being honest with him for this. He deserves it, for being so patient.  
“Is that what you want me to do with this knowledge?” he asks, not turning away his eyes, which I can see glowing under the mask.  
“You may do whatever you wish with the knowledge I give you. However, I shall strike a deal. If you are unsatisfied with being my apprentice for one year, and wish to continue, I shall have to take a price from you, in the form of you joining our organization until I see fit you have completed at least, say, fifty contracts. If you don’t wish to continue your education, then you shall be free to go, with no obligations or anything tying you permanently to me.”  
I feel a tiny crack in my armor forming. Not my actual armor, of course, I’m not wearing any, but the armor around my heart. My heart does not want to offer him the choice, but I know it is important.  
“How long do I have to make the choice?” he asks, looking out the window like I was before, after scooting over to opposite me.  
“As long as you wish, but before the year is over.” I reply, turning to look out the window. Spying a landmark, I remember the last time I took this path of such painful truth. Not for me, but painful for someone.

~Flashback~  
“Vingalmo, I cannot. Now, please, stop asking before I have to silence you permanently. You are not my mate, so stop asking like I am.” I said, spitting venomously at the rugged yet refined handsome mer in front of me. The former Thalmor glared at me, but it soon melted into something less hateful, and more sad.  
“I am sorry. I just do not know how I could possibly be paired with that beast of a man, and a Nord with a bigoted view at that as well!” he nearly shouts out, unhappy with his mate, Orthjolf.  
I sighed, and looked to Serana for help. She responds gallantly. “I know, Vingalmo, believe me, I know. I might not understand it quite like you do, but now that you’ve discovered it, you have to.”  
“It’s hard to accept, Vingalmo, but you must. Otherwise, your eternal life will be at an end faster than the sun can burn you.” I said.  
~End Flashback~

Vingalmo lies dead now, dead from thousands of years ago, torn apart and burned by villagers in a place he was staying at, to run from his mate. Orthjolf joined him soon after that happened.  
I know it is not an option.  
Bickslow is asleep now, tired from his injuries and this trip, as well as emotional turmoil from his guildmates attacking him. A moment is all I take to marvel at the cuteness before me, as I regrettably have work to do.  
I pull out the folder full of potential candidates for our Family Members. Decimus, ever so clever, has pulled names out of already-notorious guilds, not so familiar ones, and ones that haven’t been seen in years. Ah, he is a great Brother to have.  
First up, is Jose, former master of the Guild Phantom Lord, which was dissolved after the war between Fairy Tail.  
Uses dark magic, Saint-level power, in jail.  
Considering he started the guild war over a petty jealousy, no. He is unsuitable for candidacy in this case. I do not need a man with enormous power behaving like a child. Especially since he might become a traitor like that one, when I first joined.  
No.  
Next, Erigor, a Death God of Eisenwald. Takes only assassination contracts, and has not failed yet. Similar to another, hopefully, soon to be of my organization, but far behind her in power level and potential. Well, power level as of now, is quite similar. But the potential….  
Uses wind magic, with a scythe that he can use. On the run, and we know where he is.  
The Lullaby fiasco would probably have hurt our business had it been successful, but someone with his level of talent would definitely be useful. His contribution to us would be astronomical.  
Yes.  
Third, Fukuro, of Death’s Head, a member of Trinity Raven. Professional Assassin.  
Uses Absorption magic, and holder magic as well. Successful contracts all around, as with the Tower of Heaven, they were only really supposed to stall them. Which they did, and he nearly took out a Dragon Slayer. Definitely useful.  
I don’t know if he’ll accept, but I wish he will. Yes.  
Fourth, Racer, of the former Oracien Seis.  
Uses slowing magic, and contrary to popular belief, can use speed magic. In custody of the royal family.  
I shall visit him to break out a deal, and him out as well. Yes.  
Fifth, Rustyrose, former member of Grimoire Heart.  
Uses imagination magic, a Lost magic. It’s incredibly dangerous, as it can control people as well as objects to an exponential degree. In custody.  
I do not believe he will do well with the person who beat him, Bickslow himself, even if he decides not to join the guild. No. Not yet, anyway.  
Three candidates that would do well in high positions. What- or rather, who else would be best suited for that empty position? I know Babette does not like being a Speaker, but she has more experience than I. I do not believe she wants to leave her family, but it is not pleasant to find yourself repeating the same thing over and over for hundreds of years. I should know.  
Of course, Nelkir would make an excellent Speaker, but I do not think it is the will of Sithis for him to be in such a position.  
What to do, what to do.  
I look up, away from the paper that’s beginning to give me a migraine, and out the window. It is up to Bickslow to decide the fate of my Family now. On more than one front, and I do not envy his position. I understand it well, though. I had to make decisions such as this in periods of time that were instantaneous rather than have days for this. When I became a vampire, for example. Snap decision that lead to me meeting this person, sitting across from me, passed out.  
My heart softens, and I nearly try to smother my feelings. I’m supposed to be as strong and steady as a God, really. I should probably be one, considering that I know so much about magic and have lived an incredibly long time.  
That isn’t important, though, when concerning him. He’s so delicate and fragile compared to me, it’s stunning to see the contrast between the two of us.  
Or, perhaps, I am the delicate one. I teeter on the top of an edge, surrounded by people who outnumber the ones who wish me to stay on, and it tips every so often so that I must fight for our survival, as a Family, as a person, as a creature of the very magic that has corrupted me down to my soul.  
I sigh, and wish I knew of a time when I didn’t have a great, huge destiny out in front of me. When I was just…. normal. No rapid growth or advancement in organizations, no extra knowledge of special skills or subjects, not knowing anything about mastering certain things over and over again until I could force myself to build up knowledge about other skills through it.  
My shoulders sag a bit, and I sigh again, my gaze returning to the fine example of a man in front of me. I blink away the memories that seem to hit me like a ton of bricks, and stare at him for what seems like a year.  
He’s so powerful, and yet he trusts so implicitly in others. However did that happen to someone?  
My thoughts darken, and I turn to face the window outside and it’s beautiful scenery so if he wakes he will not start panicking about what he did wrong.  
I know why he isn’t messed up, he wasn’t betrayed by people and stabbed in the back at what seems like every opportunity.  
My ramblings of my mind get me through the ride, and I slowly wake Bickslow up as we near our destination. There is nothing that I care to see more than my estate when I have had my fill of people, and a lot to think about.


	11. Homework and Experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Get Ready for This by 2 Unlimited.

As Bickslow is up now, and eager to get back to learning, I tell him about racing up the hill, to see who’s faster. He accepts the opportunity, and runs up the hill at a steady pace, going much faster than I thought possible. I sprint to keep up, and watch the distance between us and the estate both diminish rapidly. Neither of us are using magic, and soon we’re both full-out sprinting, panting lightly, but not as much as a normal person should be.  
Jumping inside barrier, we tie, and I let it slide, mainly because I’m tired of the day.  
After becoming settled into the estate once more, having been gone for barely a day, I call up Bickslow to the roof.   
“The sunset this time?” he asks, laughing at the appreciation of nature lessons.  
“It’s important to get different perspectives. In the mornings, it’s all about rebirth and new growth of the day. In the evenings, it’s all about endings and the celebration of life, until tomorrow.” I say, my body arranged in a meditative pose, lotus. Bickslow easily copies my pose, and I’m slightly envious. It took me a while to get it like this, and he gets it so easily, it’s not fair. I mentally shrug. All’s fair in love and war.  
I chide myself. This is neither love nor war.  
“What other awe-inspiring philosophy do you have for me today?” he asks, a maniacal grin on his face. Why do I get the feeling something bad is going to come from this?  
“None that I can think of right now, so no, unless you want to contribute to it.” I say, staring off into the sunset, the sun not bothering me at all. I curse internally. This is getting bad. I need to tell him soon. Probably.  
“I got nothing in that department. I do, however, want to know what you’re keeping from me.” he states calmly, staring at me. I realize he isn’t wearing his helmet.  
I force myself to act natural. “What do you mean?”  
“There’s a lot of stuff going on with you I want to know about, but, the one I want to know most would definitely be the one between us.” he says, his green eyes glowing and begging me to turn and look into them.  
I give into my urge, and I look deeply into his bright green eyes. “I will tell you what I believe is happening, but I do not know if it is correct, or if it is even somewhat accurate.”  
“Can you tell me now?” he asks, impatient, while I stand and dust myself off.  
I casually walk towards the exit downstairs and say, “If every vampire’s account ever recorded is right, then we’re Mates.”  
“Mates? What do you mean, Mates?”  
I pause, and look back at him. “As in, Mates. Forever bonded. Soul Mates. Understand?”  
Taking a breath to collect my thoughts, I resume my walk, and hear a thump behind me. I assume that’s Bickslow’s head hitting the rooftop.

I’m in my bedroom, the door open behind me enough to tell Bickslow I’m in here. Just staring at the chest that could have- well, does have- an impact on the rest of my life. Our lives, actually.  
Naturally, I want to incinerate the chest so that nothing remains that ever says I can ever and have ever had feelings of this nature.  
“So that’s what that chest held.” says my potential Mate, walking in and standing near me, leaning on a bedpost.  
“I have a bad feeling about this.” I mumble, mostly to myself. That backfires, because Bickslow hears me, and places a hand on my shoulder. I can’t help but notice that his hand covers that area of my skin, and it feels warm enough to set my skin ablaze.  
“Calm down. Nothing bad will happen to you if I can help it.” he says, and I don’t think it was that way in his head. Nonetheless, it somehow unravels the knot of dread in my stomach slightly. It’s a small difference, but it helps.  
I take a breath and lean forward to open the chest that I’ve kept in my possession for so very long. As one of the last Volkihar vampires, it’s my duty to protect it. I’ve enchanted it to make it flameproof, although it was a challenge.  
Er, right. The contents in the chest, not whatever else, like the fact that I can smell Bickslow and everything about his scent is quite possibly driving me crazy.  
This is bad. Concentrate.  
“Come here.” I say to him, and he complies, sitting next to me, balancing on the balls of his feet in a crouch position. Pulling out a needle, I prick his finger like I did before, oh so long ago. It feels like an eternity. Before the droplet clinging to the sliver of metal can fall, I prick my own finger and draw my blood. It has a black tinge to it, probably because of my blood and the infusion of power that’s gone into my system for so many years.  
Dropping my left hand to the chest itself, I motion for Bickslow to do the same, and shake off the droplets of blood onto the chest.  
Once they hit, the box glows like ivory, then becomes black like ebony, tendrils coming out of it and grasping our hands individually. The metal doesn’t stop there, however, and continues to climb up our arms at a steady pace.  
“What?” asks Bickslow, his face expressing total confusion.  
Think, think. What else did Serana say about opening it? Something else with hands, I need to remember. My eyes are closed as I think, and I draw in a breath as I realize.  
“Bickslow, grab my hand, then focus on your Seith Magic and use a spell on the chest when I do!” I say hurriedly, abandoning the needle.  
“I don’t have my dolls!” he yells, our other hands clasped together.  
“You don’t need them.” I say, and focus all my energy on putting out a Destruction spell, Master level. (8)  
Surprisingly, the spells work together, with Bickslow pulling off a point-blank Baryon Formation and together forming a Unison Raid on the chest.  
Hitting it square on cannot be good for the contents. But, it does make the metal back off, disappearing altogether.  
“I did not expect that to happen.” I say, staring at the small box that was previously strangling my left arm.  
Bickslow doesn’t respond, and just kind of sits there. I don’t really blame him, though. That was…. something I could have gone without experiencing for the rest of my life.  
Sadly, now I have to open the case and find out the truth.  
“I swear to Sithis, if it’s empty…” I growl out, forcing open the top of the casket, and looking inside.  
I pull out books, books, and more books.  
“Joy. We have homework.”

We’re both sitting in my bedroom, looking through the books and occasionally writing stuff down on notepads, conveniently summoned by moi. Well, actually, I’m writing the stuff down and reading it, while Bickslow reads over my shoulder.  
Sadly, we’ve been reading for about an hour and aren’t even halfway through the first book. It has a lot of repetition and I can feel my eyelids drooping ever-so slightly.  
I’ve been up for a while, and over the long time that I’ve been alive, I have yet to truly work out a good time for me to sleep. I don’t tire very easily.  
Yet this book is tiring me out more than a fight with two Legendary Dragons. At the same time. My resolve is definitely breaking down in favor of sleeping. The spell that I cast is also wearing down my stamina, magical and physical. I haven’t felt this tired, ever. (9)  
My determination, however, makes up for my resolve and forces me to continue reading.  
I turn the page, and finally find something useful.  
“Found something.” I say, reading the page quickly.  
“What does it say?” asks Bickslow, leaning closer to read it.  
I scan the page for anything I missed, and curse myself. “It’s signs of a Mate.”  
Tossing him the book, I lie down on my bed and sigh. “This is just a fun day.”  
“Read these ones, and I get to read these.” my apprentice says, throwing several books at me. “They’re for the vamp and the human specifically. There’s one last one, but that’s for when we both finish reading these.”  
I look at him with curiosity making it’s way onto my face. “It’s in the book. Next page.”  
“Oh.” I say, and pick up the first book he threw at me. There’s no title on it, but I mentally shrug and turn to the first page.  
‘Chapter One- How to tell if your Mate is really your Mate’  
I almost slam the book shut, but settle for glaring at the book and offending sentence in question.  
‘Answer the following questions honestly, and write down your answers on a separate sheet of paper.’  
What am I, a lovesick teenager?  
Oh, right. I’m acting like one. Begrudgingly, I pull up my paper and pen and look at the questions and choices etched on the sheet of paper that could change my entire life. It has already, actually.  
‘Question One: Have you experienced any reduction in the harmful energies of the sun’s rays or fire weakness?  
a) Extremely noticeable, have not felt a thing from either.  
b) Reduced by some in both factors.  
c) Reduced in one area.  
d) Minimal reduction.  
e) No change whatsoever.’  
I consider the question, and ask Bickslow, “Do you have a lighter?”  
He absent-mindedly waves his hand, and one of his puppets leaves the room, attaining the object in question and bringing it to me.  
“Thanks.” I take the lighter, using it for it’s purpose, and pull back my sleeve, exposing my pale skin to the night air. Oh yeah, my window’s open. Did I leave it like that?  
The flame does nothing to my skin, and I can’t feel a thing besides a noticeable pain that comes with everything that hurts someone. Sighing, I put out the flame and scrawl on my paper an a.  
I look at the book again while handing the lighter to Bickslow, not really noticing the fact that he’s really confused as to why I just attempted to set myself on fire.  
‘Question Two: Have your magical abilities been strengthened to an uncanny height, such as performing a spell far above your level of ability or something of the like?  
a) Yes, performed a spell that should have been impossible at current level.  
b) Somewhat higher than what I’m used to.  
c) No, nothing has changed.’  
I quickly write down another a, and move on to the next question. I really do feel like a schoolgirl.  
‘Question Three: Has your physical stamina and strength been boosted? If so, how much?  
a) Yes, to extreme lengths on both counts.  
b) Yes, somewhat on both counts.  
c) Yes, extreme on one count and somewhat on the other.  
d) No, not at all.’  
I jot down another a, and release a tiny sigh. I’m not sure whether to feel insulted or not.  
‘Question Four: Have you been able to teach rare or specialized magic to the other person?  
a) Yes, remarkable results.  
b) Yes, promising results.  
c) No, no teaching has had any effect.’  
My pen nearly rips the paper as I mark down a once more.  
‘Question Five: Have you been in combat with the person? Did you rush to their defense at the first sign of trouble? Were you able to defend them?  
a) Yes, yes, and yes.  
b) Yes, no, yes.  
c) Yes, yes, no.  
d) No, no combat at all.’  
Another a to add to my growing collection.  
‘Congratulations on finishing the quiz and not tearing it out of this book in rage. Please compare your test results on the next page.’  
I turn the page as directed, and look at the answers.  
‘If you answered mostly a’s, then you may have found your Mate. If you answered mostly b’s, then you have a possibility the person with you is your Mate. If you answered c’s, d’s, or e’s on most of the questions, the person is most likely not your Mate.  
However, if you answered ALL a’s, then the person with you right now is your Mate.’  
I don’t even know how to respond to that. So I don’t do anything strictly rational, and just grab some clothes, declare I’m taking a shower, and march out of the room.  
So much for admitting the truth and letting things happen.

I take my time in the shower, actually drawing a bath instead. It’s been a while since I’ve done that; I’m tired enough to need it as well.  
As I take out my earrings and illusionary jewelry, I go over the questions and the answers I gave. It is a possibility, though, and I don’t especially care who the end result really is. But this…. This definitely stretches my almost non-existent moral and ethical standards, which, up until now, I’m not even sure existed.  
A confusing spectacle, I think, as I lift my left arm and inspect it for damage, looking at the pale skin, somewhat marred by my long years on the mortal plane in the form of scars. As a vampire, I don’t age, but I can still get scars. Some I don’t even know how they got there. There’s one on my right hand that’s on the base of my thumb that magically appeared there one day. No memory regarding how, but it just happened.  
My fingers find my other scars on my legs, from where a dragon swept my legs out from under me with it’s tail, then bit them. I had a hell of a time with that one.  
I smile, despite the fact that it’s a rather painful memory. Tenderly caressing the marking, I wonder what would have happened had I had a housecarl with me that day. I most likely would not have this, but they would most likely be dead, killed in dragonfire. It’d be a hero’s death, that is true, but it would also hurt terribly bad. Merciful deaths were granted all around when my housecarls and followers were near that point, but had they lived, they would have been weak in my eyes for being so gullible to fall into such obvious traps.  
Before I even realize it, though, I’ve dragged my nails along my leg, breaking the skin and making myself bleed. I stain the water red, but cannot bring myself to care. This bathtub has been my saving grace several times over, thanks to the cleaning spells imbued in every stone placed in these bathrooms. Once more, I press my hand to the wall of the house, thanking it for it’s ever-vigilance in maintaining and preserving itself for me.  
Eventually, though, the water grows cold, and I know that it is time for me to stop avoiding things and get to work regarding this…. thing.  
I sigh, drain the water from the tub, get out and toweling off. My Dark Brotherhood robes are put on once more, and I remember all the happy times I’ve used these in the company of my Family. It’s a comfort robe, literally and figuratively.  
I open the door to the hallway, walking into my bedroom while still drying my hair with a towel.  
Bickslow’s still reading, and turns around when he hears the door open. He freezes, though, and just looks at me.  
“Why do you wear illusionary jewelry all the time if you’re so gorgeous?” he asks, his green eyes wandering around my figure.  
Gorgeous? What?  
I look down at my hands to prove a point, and see nothing there but my pale skin. Nothing but skin.  
What happened to me?  
“I am so confused.” I state, turning around and heading for the mirror in the bathroom. Bickslow follows, and I look at my appearance in the mirror.  
“And I’m not sure how this is possible, either.” I say, mostly to myself, but I know Bickslow can hear me and is about to ask questions.  
Before he can voice any, though his mouth is open to follow through with the action, I run down the hallway, summoning a doorway to the absolute last place I ever thought I’d need to look for information on this. I run in without a second of hesitation, and open the display case for the Black Books.  
I tear open Waking Dreams, and can sense that Mora is surprised by my actions, before slipping into his realm. Briefly, I can hear Bickslow freaking out, but that is not a priority right now. I know what I’m doing. Mostly.

My vision returns slower than my hearing, but both are fine with seconds of coming here.  
“Ah, my Champion has returned. What do you wish for now?” says Hermaeus Mora, my master, in his infuriatingly slow voice.  
“What has happened to me and why?” I demand, knowing that he cannot resist answering such a question.  
“You will have to be more specific, Dragonborn. I do not know what you are speaking about.”  
I rip off my gloves, revealing my hands, pale and unprotected by scales. “Why do I look as human as a normal vampire?” I ask, confused by everything today.  
“Ah, so that is what you question me about. What a waste of time, Champion. You are a Volkihar Vampire, and a Dragonborn, the ultimate Dragon Slayer. That means your mate is equally powerful, and will reverse any negative effects that anything has on you, including poison, disease, wounds. It even has the ability to stop that specific part of you; the Dragon souls you have absorbed would have caused great harm to you, in the form of strife and hardship. That curse, that you abhorred so much, is now gone from you forever. You, as the last Dragonborn, are the last, the very last person to ever have to deal with that.  
“Congratulations, Dragonborn. You have succeeded in stopping this ailment of yours, though I do not know why you view it so distastefully.”  
I grit my teeth to avoid yelling at the Daedra. “Why has it vanished?”  
“Your mate is one in a trillion, and the magical prowess they have is rival to your own. I told you, it reverses the effects of anything negative. That was certainly negative, and the shred of Alduin’s soul within you now lies asunder, and will never bother you again. The whole of Dragonkind now recognize you as their superior.” he says, and I nod.  
“Thank you, Mora. I’ll go now.” I read the book again, and vanish from the realm of the Prince of Knowledge.

I slowly regain my focus in the mortal plane, and find myself disoriented for a different reason. Bickslow won’t stop shaking me.  
“LISTENER! CAN YOU HEAR ME!?” he screams in my face.  
“If you continue to do this I swear I’ll literally hand your ass to you.” I say, clutching my head after he lets go of me. Even Frea didn’t freak out this much.  
“And don’t do that again.”  
“You gave me a reason to.” he huffs, then pouts.  
“I had to check something, and this, if anything, confirms my suspicions.” I say, holding out the Black Book, returning it to it’s place. Hermaeus Mora made sure his books would go largely undisturbed, for research purposes.  
“Really? What made you freak out over something?” he asks, interest piqued once more.  
I sigh, ready to explain some more things to my apprentice slash Mate. “I’m the Dragonborn, and I absorb the Souls of Dragons to make sure they stay dead. The Ultimate Dragon Slayer, actually. I killed Alduin, but a shred of his soul went into me, which it shouldn’t have, causing me to become more like a dragon. I became a vampire to stop it, but it continued whenever I fed, until it covered my hands and feet, even some of my torso and legs. But you, Bickslow, you stopped it.”  
“I did?” he questions, arms folding against his chest.  
“Yes. I don’t understand the exact mechanics behind it, and I doubt I ever will, because I get the feeling Hermaeus Mora doesn’t even understand it. I also believe that he barely knew what he was talking about and knows more than he lets on, which is kind of a shame.” I finish, slightly out of breath.  
“So, that means I’m your apprentice, and your Mate, huh?” he asks, a grin on his face.  
“I suppose so, yes.” I reply, not understanding this. “Wait, were you wearing your clothes normally today?”  
“No.” He’s just wearing his boxers, and I’m just now realizing.  
“Wonderful. I’m losing my touch.” I say, walking out of the room.  
“So, now that it’s confirmed, shall we do other, Mate-y stuff?” he asks, following me and catching his hands on the upper door frame.  
I pause to glare at him. “I will lock you in that room if I have to.”  
“Just try. My babies will be after you in a second!”  
I sigh, and shake my head, walking into the bedroom again to read the rest of the books. It might take a while to read through them.  
Picking up one of them, I lay on the bed on my stomach, shins up and kicking. Bickslow joins me on the bed a moment later, actually lying across my back on his own.  
I just sigh and shake my head, returning to my reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (8)- I am actually trying to send out an Icy Spear, but I get a one-handed Lightning Storm somehow. Not sure what happens to make that appear.  
> (9)- Maybe a very, very long time ago, as a small child. But then, I can't remember. So, irrelevant.


	12. Figurings and Intriguing Observations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Voodoo by Adam Lambert.

After about an hour of reading, I finish the book and contemplate moving Bickslow off of me, as he’s fallen asleep. And I cannot feel my legs as well, so that’s brilliant.  
Eventually, I do, tucking him into my own bed and walking to the library to get more books, this time on Dragon Slayers. They are observations that have been made since Dragon Slayers of this New Age have been around. Their magic is in tune with their element, or elements, and mating rituals are, rather unfortunately, taught subconsciously to them, through the actual magic.  
As I said, every magical benefit has a drawback.  
Dragon Slayers go berserk when the time of their own biological clock is activated, and then they seek out a mate, marking them as theirs. The strength of the bond depends on how long a person has known the Slayer, how much they like them, et cetera.  
But with me, as a vampire as well, not even counting the Dragonborn part, it’s… a bit tricky.  
I pull out books, one after the other, until I have a full shelf in my arms. These should provide me with an answer, but it is also unlikely they can answer all my questions.  
It’s infuriating, sadly. I may have to go to Apocrypha and do a favor for Mora to even get something resembling an answer. Which I’m bound to not get either way.  
Silently fuming, I take the books in my hands, not levitating them this time, and walk back to my bedroom. My gaze rests on Bickslow, and my frustration melts away quickly. He’s so cute like that….  
Focus. Books. Reading.  
Right. I force my gaze away from the body in the bed and grab the first book, before laying on the bed and mentally saying ‘Fuck it.’  
‘The Dragon Slayer's guide to everything Dragon-related’  
I crack open the tome, and start reading through it.  
‘The Dragon Slayer will actively seek out a Mate, equal or higher in power than them. If a proper match can be found, then the Mate, if making the decision to not want to be with them, can fight for the right to be unbound and free from the Slayer. However, there are no documented reports, as Mates are usually happy and content with their Mates.  
Very few Slayers have ever been Mateless, but it can occur, if the intended Mate was killed in battle, died of natural causes, or died before meeting the Slayer. Normally, if a Dragon Slayer is away from their Mate for more than a year, the Slayer and the Mate both start losing magical prowess. This can result in death if it is not solved as soon as possible. Contrary to this is if the Slayer has never met the Mate, and therefore does not know what they are missing, quite literally.  
However, if the Mate of the Dragon Slayer is not found, they will never grow much in magical strength, compared to other Slayers.  
This is true for normal Dragon Slayers, but legend has it that the Ultimate Dragon Slayer, who has not appeared for centuries and is rumored to be nothing more than a just that, a rumor, is still alive. Some say it is for the sake of looking for their Mate, and others say it is for the sake of waiting for the final battle to end them.’  
Nothing. Nothing in regards to me, until the last paragraph of the entire book! What is this madness?  
Irritation flows off of me, and Bickslow stirs a bit, grumbling. I pet his head, and soon he falls back asleep. My hand doesn’t move from his hair, and my eyes glaze over as I think about this.  
It won’t be so bad, I suppose. If, of course, I could find out exactly what’s happening.  
I sigh, and remove my hand. Nothing’s really going to have the answers. Not even Neloth, or Mora.  
A conundrum. I miss when that was just the name of a metal.  
My eyes turn to the chest down on the floor, and I briefly consider looking through those books that I have yet to read.  
I think not right now. Checking the time, it’s about an hour to sunrise or so, and I can read a book in that time. Besides, just because Bickslow’s my Mate doesn’t mean that I’ll go easy on him. He’s still my apprentice.  
What magic to teach him next? I’ve been teasing him about Titan Magic, the same that Makarov uses, for a while, why not that one? I can’t think of any reasons not to. If the magic is not used primarily, then there is less of a danger that the user will shrink to the size of a midget.  
I pick up the next book on Dragon Slayer magic, and start reading again.

‘A Dragon Slayer can, and will, hunt down their Mate at all costs. Anything opposing them should most definitely be above them in strength on a regular basis, most likely in a class above their own by several times. A Mate unleashes the Slayer’s true potential, and the favor is returned by the strength of the Mate’s magic growing.  
Slayers primarily use one type of magic, but the Ultimate Dragon Slayer, of ages ago, most definitely did not. Legend has it, from the ruins of a temple in the upper region of the mainland, the primarily snowy region to the north, that the Ultimate Dragonslayer’s true potential is not only unlocked by the Mate, but enhanced so that the Slayer can defeat any Dragon, creature, or person in the known Magical Dimension(s). However, the consequences of the immense power output are that the Dragon Slayer must have a Mate that meets the Magical Output they create, negating it as they also grow in strength, from the Slayer.  
Of course, if the Ultimate Dragon Slayer only has one chance with which to bond with them fully, and the magic is similar to Maguilty Sense, a Lost Magic. Emotions will become a type of power for them, and almost every emotion can be shared, as well as pain, pleasure, and every physical sensation during times of extreme sensations or peril.  
Our research into the matter with the Ultimate Dragon Slayer, however, is limited, and we cannot go further into the topic while accurately portraying it for our readers. Thank you, and goodbye.’  
A Maguilty Sense link? Such a dangerous magic formed subconsciously? Curse you, too, me.  
Er- if that made sense.  
It’s only been about thirty minutes, and I bring myself to get up and go downstairs. At 4:30 in the morning, I really do love my coffee.

It’s five minutes later, and the coffee is well underway, bringing me the joyful beverage welcomingly associated with the morning. Taking a sip, I sigh in contentment, and hear the steps of Bickslow coming down the stairs. He likes it almost as much as I do. Though to be fair, blood is a very close second. Or is it first? It’s been a long time since I drank the sweet crimson lifeblood of the creatures everywhere that roam the realm.  
“So, did you learn anything else?” he says around a yawn. Talent, I tell you.  
“Not much else about the vampire stuff, but I found something…. interesting about the Dragon Slayer’s Mates.” I say, calmly taking a sip of the delectable beverage.  
“Why would that be a concern?” he asks, getting out his own mug. I should get him one to decorate like my own.  
“Because I am one.”  
Bickslow starts laughing almost hysterically. “You? A Dragon Slayer? That’s- that’s awesome. Wheh.”  
His laughter dies down when he sees my expression. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”  
“‘Fraid so.”  
“But… the train! The car! The horse!” he says, and I’m happy that he is not holding his coffee at this time.  
“Is that a weakness new Dragon Slayers have?” I ask, honestly concerned.  
“Yes, Laxus has to wear his headphones if he gets on a moving object, they all get serious motion sickness!”  
“I’ve ridden Dragons, it’s not that different than them. That’s rather tragic, actually. Riding on one is a very exhilarating experience.” I smile at my memories. Sahrotaar, Odahviing, countless others have let me ride them, either through Bending to my will or through deciding on their own.  
“You’ve ridden Dragons?” he asks, looking at me with shock evident on his face. A mug of coffee is in his hand already, courtesy of his babies.  
“Yes. What is so unbelievable about this?” I question him, taking another sip of my coffee.  
“Laxus hasn’t even done that. Only Natsu and Rogue have been seen doing that.” he says, and I wave my hand, forming a capsule around the coffee he’s spilling.  
“Would you kindly not waste the coffee?” I say, pointedly looking at him. “And I have a Shout that enables me to do so.”  
“A Shout?”  
“Yes, a Shout. Ancient Magic, I believe I’m the only one left alive who knows about it, well, practices it.” I take another sip.  
“Really?” he asks.  
“Of course. I haven’t lied to you yet, so take that as a blessing. It takes years and years of practice to even begin to understand the concept, for most people. However, with your magical energy, I believe it will go much faster than that, although constant practice is a given.”  
“Are you going to teach me that today?” Bickslow questions, already on his second cup. How does that man drink so much coffee in the time it takes me to explain something as simple as this? Oh, actually, I don’t believe it is that simple. Nevermind.  
“I could, I suppose. I was planning to teach you Titan Magic, but the less that is learned about that is probably better. It’s drawbacks are incredibly evident in your guild’s Master.”  
He looks regretful about something, but I do not probe the minds of others unless I am in combat, for yet another edge. Can’t say that I don’t look for every single edge I can find, because I do.  
“What magic do you use the most?” he asks, and I’m taken aback by the question.  
“Illusion, hands down. Using it can make your enemies into your friends, at least for a short amount of time.”  
“Like Figure Eyes, right?”  
“Yes, exactly like yours, except you don’t have to manage them like your dolls. Do you want to learn how to manipulate your enemies with a touch of magic and a spark of skill?”  
He considers the question, his hair ruffled, green eyes glowing, tattoo stationary on his face. I observe every detail I can, because I feel like I won’t see him again for some reason. I hope that is not the case, ever.  
Bickslow sticks out his tongue, and says, “Yes!”  
I smile.

"Imagine that you're a monster, capable of mass destruction without lifting a finger." I say, manipulating the environment around us to suit our needs. To practice illusion magic, one should do so around people or animals, not by one's self.  
With effort, Bickslow conjures up an image that would terrify most people, and confuse any victims, sending them into a frenzy.  
"Good, now, imagine the opposite, where you are a beneficial creature, exuding peace and kindness to all around us."  
"There's no one else here." He states, hands busy keeping the spell alive. I send a small pebble his way, not noticeable for normal people, but something I still have a suspicion about is nagging at me.  
Bickslow notices, and glares at me, his helmet in his room somewhere, where he left it. He hasn’t been wearing it for a while, and I can’t say I mind. It’s always nice to look someone in the eyes.  
Although, maybe I shouldn’t do that anymore, without such illusions always around me.  
I monitor his work, letting it wash over me and settling down every nerve in my body. Of course, that won’t work on anyone he’d ever have trouble with.  
“Make it stronger, Bickslow. Using a spell like this, in combat, won’t work very well. It’s too weak, and you’re left open for an attack. Observe.”  
I send a blunt arrow his way, not wanting to actually harm my apprentice. It does, however catch him by surprise, and he stumbles, his concentration breaking and the spell’s effects stopping.  
“I expected you to throw a firebolt at me.” he says, regaining his stance.  
“I don’t like being predictable, and besides, I’ll start training you with bows and arrows soon enough. Well, probably. I see you more as a crossbow guy.” I state, leaning on a Daedric Bow. I always have a few lying around, in case of circumstances like this, or when I don’t have any soul gems and don’t wish to waste the charge.  
“Why crossbows?” he asks, resuming the spell, channeling more energy into it, making it affect me more. I can feel it creeping up my leg.  
“Because you have the muscle to pull it back easily and quickly, and if you do it quickly enough, then you can outmaneuver any archer you come across, except for maybe a sniper.”  
Calmly, I whack an illusionary monster, which was attempting to bite me.  
It dissipates, and I turn to where my apprentice was, but remember that I have no way of seeing him now. I cannot rely upon my sense of vision like normal. My eyes shut tightly, and I clear my mind of anything this dark mist reminds me of.  
He’s getting cleverer, asking me something and then activating the spell. It’s also woven quite excellently.  
I open my eyes again, and I’m faced with a dragon, roaring above my head. My eyes shut again, and open almost involuntarily. I’m faced with a gigantic wall of mist, not unlike the mist Alduin rose up in Sovngarde, so many years ago. My eyelids shut once more, and I open them, while saying, “Lok!”  
I see a red shimmer to my right, and I run at it, passing through illusions and monsters, until I stand behind my apprentice, and tap him on the shoulder.  
He turns, and I punch him in the face. (10)  
“I did say I liked to be unpredictable, right?”  
Bickslow grimaces, and stands up, accepting my hand to help him up. The illusionary world dissipates around us, and I sigh in relief. I don’t know what it would have shown me next, and I’d rather not know.  
“Come.” I say to my apprentice, and he follows me inside the house. Something’s different, though, I can feel it.  
Shrugging it off, I equip a healing spell, sending it through him and healing his bruise immediately. He sighs, and I smile. Dealing with damaged people is not my forte.  
Neither is this, but crazier things have happened in my lifetime.  
And more will undoubtedly happen soon.

“So, you need to focus on not being seen. Think about merging with your surroundings, that you have to be invisible, that light bends around you to accommodate your whims.”  
Bickslow’s brow is furrowed in concentration, and I realize, again, that his helmet is in his room, and I should lock it away.  
Ugh. Get away, thoughts, I’m teaching right now.  
Something, however, is nagging at me. Feels…. weird. Different, here. The house wants to tell me something, but even it can’t detect fully what’s happening. That smells like trouble if I ever knew about it. Heh. Werewolf scent detection can stay with you, especially if you possess the Ring of Hircine when you’re transformed into a vampire. An undoubtable pain, though, at times.  
Of course, I haven’t tested this theory yet, and I don’t especially want to.  
Becoming either kind of screws you over in the afterlife department. I should know, I’ve been both, and still am. Well, one of them.  
My thoughts halt, as my eyes focus on my apprentice again. I see his outline faintly, and I smile. “Wonderful.” I whisper, actually amazed. Invisibility this good should be only available to the experts, and then it’s more easily detectable than what Bickslow’s just created.  
“Can you dispel it, though?” I practically purr, pleased with his progress. Who wouldn’t be? He’s practically mastered the spell, and he started practicing this magic about 3 hours previously.  
He hesitates, and I smile. “Easily fixed, just pick something up.”  
He does so, in the form of my chair, with me still in it.  
Bickslow flickers back into view within a moment. “Why does it do that instead of needing a cancellation spell?”  
I sigh. “There used to be something called Chameleon, a wonderful enchantment that could be casted on yourself and interwoven into clothing, making you entirely invisible if you were lucky. However, the mages making a large order of such objects for a battle were idiots, and didn’t do anything to separate them. The resulting disaster practically gave an open invitation to the Psijic Order monks to put a halt to the entire enchantment, and remove it from the world. Every single piece of equipment that could be found, and dozens more, were taken away from this plane and transferred into their hands. Of course, there might still be some on the mainland, in ruins, but as far as I can tell, there have been none found.”  
“Were you there when it happened?” he asks, looking at me curiously.  
“No, I wasn’t alive then. Heh. Something I haven’t said in a while. I also wasn’t there for the Great War, or for the Oblivion Crisis, though I really wish I was. Working with the Champion of Cyrodiil…. an honor I would have remembered through the ages.”  
“The Champion of Cyrodiil?”  
“Yes. Come on, get inside, you have to learn new spells, and I have some spellbooks I’ve forgotten about. Anyway, Cyrodiil was the cosmopolitan heart of the Empire of the Septim Bloodline, Dragonborn emperors, which later gave way to the Medes, but that comes later. The whole operation came to a crashing halt when the Emperor and his heirs were murdered, and the Dragonfires that protected the entire Empire were extinguished, because of the Amulet of Kings. Are you hungry?” I say, striding forward easily while making sure my voice carried to his ears.  
“No, not really. What happened then?”  
“You, not hungry? Finally. The Dragonfires stopped Mehrunes Dagon from entering the mortal plane, which would have torn the world apart, evidenced by the Oblivion Gates that popped up everywhere. Legend has it that the Champion shut each and every one of those Gates in Cyrodiil, and there were quite a few; I think over a hundred, maybe two. He did enter Mundus, though, and only the sacrifice of both the last Septim of the bloodline and the Amulet of Kings stopped him permanently from ever entering the realm again. Directly. Of course, Martin Septim died, because the god Akatosh used his body as an avatar, battling Dagon and defeating him at the cost of Martin’s life. The body was turned to stone, and a huge dragon statue is sitting by the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. Or, it would be. I haven’t been there in decades.”  
“So, why is this important?”  
“Because history is due to be repeated by those of us who do not learn from other’s mistakes.” I say, taking a glance back at my apprentice. There it is again, that little disturbance. What is that?  
I shrug it off, leading my apprentice back to the library and handing him several tomes of books, for him to learn the spells inside.  
I might just have to research what this little problem is….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (10)- Regrettably. I like his face; it's rather handsome. Sadly, he isn't wearing his helmet.


	13. A Legend Elaborated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Raise Your Glass by Pink.  
> Also, this one has the most footnotes so far!

Nothing. I’ve been searching for hours and I can’t find anything even hinting at what this could possibly be. It’s not even a coherent thought, really, it’s just…  
Ugh, it’s not even a feeling, it’s more like intuition. Like an attack from the Falmer, vile creatures they may be, they were very good at finding the followers I had with me. Unfortunately, they weren’t the smartest of creatures, and they died by my hand. Er, not my followers. The Falmer. I do have some standards.  
I’m pacing my bedroom, Bickslow safely in his own, reading or sleeping or practicing magic, whatever. It’s not disturbing me and that’s all I care about right now.  
“If I were a feeling that wouldn’t go away, what would I be?” I mumble to myself, trying to figure out this logic puzzle.  
I’ll find the solution, so help me. If it’s someone at my door, well I dare them to try and break into here. It’s all perfectly legal and nicely done.  
My head snaps up.  
Is that truly it?  
So simple?  
….Hmm.  
Fairy Tail wizards.  
Only explanation.  
Well, either that or a dragon’s coming, one really powerful one. I hope that isn’t the case, I don’t like absorbing their souls. It might be my destiny, but it’s rather unpleasant. Leaves me all warm and fuzzy-feeling, like I just swallowed a miniature bear.  
As you can imagine, not the nicest feeling in the book.  
I sigh, and lay down on my bed, facing the windows and the view outside, moonlit and beautiful. I doubt they could break in if they tried for a week, but I’ll check it out tomorrow. Just in case.

It’s 3 in the morning, and I’ve gotten about three hours of sleep, a new record of late, and can’t focus on anything but that nagging feeling that’s going around in my head.  
I rouse myself, shaking off the grip of sleep and the lull of dreams, putting on my assassin's garb, Dark Brotherhood armor. It’s been so long since I’ve worn this, it’s almost not fair. I rub the familiar material, soft to my touch yet devastatingly quiet and resilient to both magical and physical assaults. Not as much as my Daedric armor, or any armor set I’ve created over the years, but it’s not meant to be for charging into combat, although I’ve done that quite a few times.  
A quiverful of ebony arrows slides onto my back effortlessly, and I grab an unenchanted bow, before reconsidering and swapping it for a magicka absorb one.  
Whether they realize it or not, every single living thing has a magic inside of it, acting in different ways. For most non-magical beings, it acts as luck and chance. With humans, though, it’s a bit more difficult, and when I studied the topic I regretted it almost instantly, because it’s boring. Just research, research, research. Not fun at all.  
Sliding into a crouch, I go out my window, leaving it open slightly to get back in. I don’t want to alert them to my presence, if I can help it.  
My eyes adjust using Night Vision, and the landscape becomes clearer than day to me. Nothing out of the ordinary, until I spy an orb, attempting to break through.  
I cock my head, staring questioningly at the object in question. Nocking an arrow to my bow, I hone in on it, and see it’s a lacrima. Not any lacrima, a communication lacrima, that’s addressed specifically to me.  
Well, that’s surprising. Most of them get so befuddled that they just zoom around in circles and explode. Must be because I’ve been primarily here for a while. I consider lowering my shot, replacing the arrow in my quiver, but instead, I let it fly, watching with a self-satisfied smirk as it destroys the precious lacrima that so desperately wanted to meet me.  
Tough luck, Makarov.  
Bickslow is my apprentice, and you aren’t getting him back until I say so.  
Which will be never.  
I smirk again, and resist the urge to whoop in delight. My Bickslow, my Mate, mine….  
I sigh, though, the smile falling off my face.  
Of course, that is up for debate right now.  
My lip becomes a target, getting chewed by my teeth as I think about the matter at hand.  
Which will he choose?  
Although, I don’t think he really does have a choice in the matter. It’s quite like Dragon Slayers, though, and since I’m the best and a vampire, that’s just…  
Wow. Not fun.  
I return to my window, walking in quietly, locking the window behind me and slipping out of my clothes. Snuggling down into the bed that’s so heavenly soft, I sigh, wondering about the future.  
My eyes close, and I put my thoughts away with just one comforting thought….  
Bickslow…

It’s 5, or close enough to it, when Bickslow wakes me up. Normally, I’d complain and hurt the person in question, but I don’t think I could do so even if my own life was at stake. I growl a bit, though, but eventually get up, if nothing else to cease his persistence.  
Stretching, I make my way out of the bedroom, greeting Bickslow’s insane smile and unusual habit of sticking his tongue out, revealing his guildmark. He’s carrying a basket, from which I smell coffee, sweetened with Moon Sugar. That stuff’s dangerous in large quantities, and even in small ones, but now and then shouldn’t really hurt. Besides, the stuff’s gotten way weaker since the Khajiit were wiped out. No one really knows how to tend to the plants besides moi, and I really like having such secrets to myself. Much more fun that way.  
“To the roof!” he says excitedly, his exuberance almost grating on my nerves. Almost, but not quite. It’s actually kind of cute, really.  
Instantly, I shake my head a bit, clearing it of such thoughts and following my apprentice onto the roof of the estate. Surveying the area, I find nothing out of order, and the nagging feeling has been reduced to a minimum. It’s not entirely gone, but I doubt that it will be until Bickslow makes his decision. I honestly have no idea what he’ll do. Either way is possible.  
“So what words do you have for me today, oh wise one?” he says to me snarkily. I eye him, snatching an apple from the basket and biting into it, fangs first. They’re great for giving me leeway.  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full of food.” I say, and hear a laugh from him in response. My eyes are trained on the horizon, where the sun is beginning to peek from beyond the mountaintops in the distance. Mentally sighing, I realize I miss the view from the monastery, where we greeted the sun every morning, before going about our duties and study. I remember when Arngeir was young, and easily swayed by my wolf cub (11) eyes.  
“There, is that better?” he asks, swallowing and looking towards me.  
“Much. However, you need to start being able to sense the nature around you, inanimate objects and living ones, creatures, grass, trees, stones, houses, fences. Once you get really good at it, you can navigate fully around a town with your eyes shut, ears plugged, and every sense you use to get around nulled. Magical defenses can be detected using this as well, and attacks can be stopped with a well placed spell in the weak points.”  
“There are weak points in spells?” he asks, his eyes wide and glowing. (12)(13)  
I nod. “Almost always, there’s some time between preparing and casting the spell, as well as the impact, that has some way to reverse it onto the attacker. There aren’t many ways one can defend against that, and truthfully, it’s a wizard’s bane. Holder Magic has less gaps in their spells than Caster Magic, but they’re vulnerable in a different way. Blocking off someone’s magic or stealing their equipment to do so, like Keys for Celestial Wizards, usually negates their effect or stops it completely.”  
He relaxes, laying on his back with one leg resting on his other knee, eyes closed. “So they’re more vulnerable, but they also have strength that way?”  
“Everything has to be balanced, remember? There’s the balance evident there.”  
“So what’s your balance?” he asks, one eye peering open to look at me.  
“I have to be under constant control to prevent my Voice from overpowering everything in site and shattering it into a million pieces. A Dragonborn’s power is inert until they learn Words of Power, or absorb a Dragon’s soul. Such is the sadness of this, because it does not always mean good things. Dragons these days have forgotten their ancestry, and do not know the language of the Dov like their forefathers did.” I tighten my grip around my knees, hugging them to my chest.   
“As a vampire, though, the sun burns me, as does fire, while normal creatures should spurn me for the monster they see me as. The constant craving for blood drives most of us insane, and only the years of practice I have had through controlling my Voice prevent me from becoming feral like so many others.(14) Most vampires nowadays can’t physically control themselves, and whenever I encounter one close to society, I try to remove it, seclude it, or exterminate it. Those that still have some semblance of sanity through feeding on thralls or those that willingly give their blood, I attempt to cure them. Those that are not, I take it upon myself to cleanse them in a way that they can only be cleansed.”  
“You kill feral vampires?” Bickslow asks, both eyes open and leaning towards me.  
“If I have to. They draw unwanted attention to us, and must be disposed of before they become a menace to society. Vampirism is difficult to control for normal people, and even I have been… overpowered by it, on occasion.” I grimace, memories surfacing of myself feeding on thralls in Volkihar without restraint. “It’s not pleasant. More like you’re taking something from someone who does not want to give it, even if they are thralls of yours. You know they wouldn’t want to do so in their right mind.”  
“How do you know that?” he asks, looking at me intently. Damn those eyes, I’m drawn to them like moths to a flame.  
“Most of the time, they don’t want to be fed upon.”  
“How do you know they dislike it, though? Have you ever been bitten by a vampire?”  
I lift an eyebrow at him. “How do you think I became one?”  
“You’ve been bitten once, and once only. That doesn’t make you an expert on this at all.”  
My eyes tear away from him, and I look towards the sun again, my head resting on my knees. “It does not, I know that. But I don’t know what will happen if I feed again, after so long without it.”  
He seems like he’s about to say something, but thinks better of it, and closes his mouth. My apprentice is quite the inquisitive type.  
If I knew how to explain it, though, I don’t think he’d care to discuss it, after all.  
Maybe those books will have something about this….

I drag a pack of those books out into the sunshine, relaxing, as Bickslow practices his Muffle spell, as well as Invisibility. Perhaps I shouldn’t have taught him such things so soon.  
The third book lays at my side, within reach, and I open the second book to the beginning. Glancing at my apprentice, who’s starting to fade out of my sight, I nod. He’s learning the spell quickly. He’s at a very high level already; on the second day he’s done more than a master’s learned in half his apprenticeship.  
I open the tome, looking through the contents, and sighing. I’ll start from the beginning.  
‘An unprecedented attack can, in the Vampire’s eyes, provoke an extreme response to any sign of hostility. Any and all movements against the Mate of the Vampire can lead to injuries for the offending parties, fatal wounds, or even death.’  
Point taken, and proven with the battle of Fairy Tail’s members at the Sanctuary.  
‘Many incidents can be avoided if the Mate of the Vampire has sufficient power over them to calm them down, in emergencies and in the magical backlash that can occur. The Vampire will become extremely possessive of the Mate, to the point where some won’t even let others touch them. However, the Mate usually becomes equally possessive, agreeing to personal space through that.’  
Okay, so I’m not sure how that’s good. But apparently it is?  
‘Many personal effects that are used everyday for one mate can hold off the effects of prolonged absence of one’s mate, for Vampire or Mate.  
In the occurrence that one, or both, Mates are Dragon Slayers, complications can arise, including problems addressed in the fourth and final volume. Most of those occurrences are rare and few, because of the rarity of Dragon Slayers having Mates with other Dragon Slayers, due to the dominance that most of them feel for the Mates that they choose.  
Back to the original topic, even an unintentional injury caused by another can lead to extreme reactions, more so in the case of the Vampire attacking rather than the Mate. Besides those extreme responses given light by injury from another, a self-inflicted injury, accidental or purposeful, which causes the Mate to bleed, will invoke a response that can harm others with a degree not usually seen, even in feral or blood-deprived vampires. The Mate’s blood is usually accepted by the Vampire, but once tasted, caution is advised, for even the smell of the blood can send the Vampire into a frenzy. Such is the power sacrificed by the Vampire, and the risk taken by the Mate. Uncontrollable, the Vampire’s thirst may lead to extreme responses, prompting immediate healing or turning of the Mate into a Vampire themselves.’  
I stop reading temporarily, looking at the page in wonder. So I could drink Bickslow’s blood, but there’s a chance I would have to turn him in any case. This is not something I wish to do.  
‘A blood-deprived Vampire feeding on their Mate will most definitely have severe repercussions. The Vampire will likely have a craving for the Mate’s blood almost always, without ceasing, and the longer without blood, the harder it is to break it.  
If the Mate is turned into a Volkihar Vampire, however, which will happen without fail if the Vampire has no other option, the pair will not actually have to drink the blood of mortals like normal vampires.’  
Wait, what? (15)  
‘Drinking substitutes in each other’s presence should suffice, every two to three weeks, but drinking each other’s blood, even though the other is a Vampire, is enough to stave off Blood Starvation for a year, the time limit usually on the magical drain occurring over the long absence of their presence.’  
Interesting. I set it down for a moment, looking around for Bickslow.  
There’s a shimmer above my right shoulder. Reaching back, I grab him and flip him over, onto the ground of ebony. I do have such a fondness for the metal, it’s rather insane.  
“Ow. Now, that’s no way to treat your apprentice!” he says, tongue lolling out and eyes glaring at me, but laughing with a grin on his face.  
I relent, helping him up and setting down the book. I can finish it later.  
“You’re learning at an exemplary pace; this is an expert level spell. Now, try to do this spell.” I say, handing him a book with a Master level spell written in it’s pages. It’s Call to Arms, one that won’t really harm anything around us.  
He reads the book, his eyes taking in the spell with an ease I haven’t seen in a thousands of years. The book disintegrates as he finishes reading it, memorizing the contents.  
Automatically, he starts performing the spell, using two hands. I can see the strain making itself known on his body, sweat making it’s way down his face. (16)  
Reaching the point in the spell that marks the high point, he releases it, the spell washes over the entire area, calming me down and rallying me up to the point where I feel invincible.  
I smile, and look at my hand, seeing the magical outline and feeling it at the same time.  
“Excellent work, Bickslow. You’ve performed a Master-level Illusion spell.” I say, looking at my apprentice with something resembling fondness, or pride.  
Bickslow smiles again, laughing and letting his tongue hang out.  
“Never knew learning magic was so easy.” he laughs again, smiling still.  
I cock my head at him. “It’s not. That was a Master level spell; it shouldn’t have been possible for you to achieve doing so. Most people who study Illusion, or who did, the magic’s dispersed now, couldn’t have done what you did without years, even decades of study.”  
He pauses, looking at me. “So what does that mean?”  
My eyes flicker to the book, but there wasn’t anything in there about magical enhancement. No, that was in the Dragon Slayer book. “It means that you’re going to get as powerful as me. Most likely.”  
“Most likely?” he raises one of his eyebrows at that, and I take a moment to admire the fact that his eyebrow is also blue, as well as consider my answer.  
“Well, since I’m the Ultimate Dragon Slayer, there are a few… complications, with the vampire part added in and the other facts that I haven’t, er, quite told you about.” I say, thinking about the fact that the Dragonborn is thought to have Dragon blood coursing through their veins.  
“And that would be?”  
“Akatosh’s blood. It’s quite possible it does, in fact, flow through me, and I’ve never actually tested it myself. It’s hard to know if you have a god’s blood or not, especially if it’s based on ancient legends that are only recorded because of Akaviri inscriptions in a wall in a temple far, far away from here, on the mainland, in Keizaal.”  
“Keizaal?” he asks, curious as ever.  
“The traditional home of the Dragons, but they truly originated from many places. I was unfortunately unable to defeat them all, as they fled for the most part, though some listened to what my teacher, Paarthurnax, had to say about the Way of the Voice.”  
“Now you’ve lost me.” Bickslow replies, looking confused.  
I smile, and wave at him to follow me, gathering up the books I had out in one fluid motion. “I’ll explain over lunch, and after that, you get to practice some more.”  
A glance back at him shows a smile, and I continue forward.  
As always, I have and I shall.

“So, what’s with your blood?” he asks, after starting to eat a sandwich.  
I pull open the cupboards, grabbing a sweetroll from a batch a while ago. “I’ve never entirely tested it, but the legends say that the Ultimate Dragon Slayer, me, is born with the body of a mortal and the soul of a Dragon. That part, as far as I can test it, is true. But the Dragon blood is apparently the actual blood of Akatosh, the major god of the Divines, whose sons were Alduin and Paarthurnax. All Dragons are descended from him, supposedly.”  
“All Dragon Slayers have Dragon blood in them, then?” Bickslow asks, still eating. My cynical side questions me, is that all he does?  
No, no he doesn’t, my rational side responds.  
I mentally sigh over the voices going around in my head, and shake them off for a while, keeping them quiet.  
“No, you’d have to be a literal Dragon to have Dragon blood. It’s kind of in the name for the thing.” I take a bite of my sweetroll, and smile. Ah, sweetrolls. Nobody has ever dared to take away a sweet roll from me. For good reason, I’d go berserk.  
“No matter if they’re actually raised by a Dragon, or if they have a lacrima implanted in them. Unless they’re a Dragon by nature, then they do not have Dragon blood in them. It’s like how some people have blond hair; it’s passed by the parents. The same thing with this.” I continue, trying to explain it the best way I know how.  
“So, you’re the only Dragon Slayer with Dragon blood.” my apprentice says, pausing in eating his food.  
“I believe so, yes.” I lick the remaining icing off my fingers, and peek at Bickslow. He’s pondering something, that much I can tell, but what, well, I really hate intruding into people’s minds with Telepathy magic. I don’t care to find out in such a way; I have some morals. Not many, but some. I face the opposite direction, turning on the water in the sink to wash my hands.  
“Could you defeat Acnologia?”  
I stop the water, and turn to look at my apprentice. “What?”  
“Acnologia. Could you defeat him?” he asks, a few feet from me, from moving when I wasn’t watching him.  
“Acnologia…..” I dry my hands, considering his question.  
“Who is this Acnologia?” Innocently asking, I look at my apprentice.  
His face twists, from serious to disbelief. “You don’t know who Acnologia is? The huge black Dragon soaring around, pretty much wreaking havoc everywhere it goes? The one that imprisoned the main members of Fairy Tail on Tenrou Island for seven whole years?”  
I shake my head no for all of them, but my expression hardens at the last mention. “What did he do?”  
“I can’t believe you didn’t know about him. He tried to kill us all, and only Fairy Sphere saved us from dying.”  
I nod. “I remember that, at least. Fairy Tail practically was erased in terms of magical prowess. But, you’re back on top. And alive.”  
“Yeah, great.” I hear him say, and I look at my apprentice quizzically.  
“What?”  
“Well, I don’t like being a member Fairy Tail, of the Thunder Legion. It’s terrible, always being in his shadow, mainly because since I was beat by Lucy, I’m considered one of, if not the weakest member of Fairy Tail.”  
I frown at this. “Lucy, the Celestial Wizard with the Golden Gate keys?”  
He nods. “Yeah, that’s her. The cheerleader. Laxus calls her Blondie.”  
“Celestial Wizards are actually immensely powerful, especially with the Zodiac at their command. Lucy has especially strong bonds with her spirits, I could feel it when we met in battle. You should not be ashamed by being beaten; it should only strengthen your resolve to become stronger.  
“A Celestial Wizard is exceptional, because they can summon powerful spirits with little magic expenditure (17). They don’t do most of their labor; Karen Lilica was an excellent example of that. The spirits in her employ always came to me because they didn’t wish to be used so brutally. Aries regularly found sanctuary with me.”  
I realize I’ve gone off on a tangent, and look at my apprentice. “Hey. Don’t feel badly about one defeat. You could take on that pink-haired one now, and win.”  
“You mean Natsu?” he asks, looking at me.  
“Yes, the pink one. You could win that battle easily, with your mask on and with one hand behind your back.”  
He smirks, sticking his tongue out. “So I’m more powerful than that Dragon Slayer?”  
I smile at him, and nod. “Yes. A few more spells, a few more skills, you’d probably be able to take on Laxus and the rest of his Thunder Legion.”  
A light blush drifts across his face, and he looks away, clearing his throat.  
I turn around again, and walk up to the library.  
Strength is gained in this place, and it is always appreciated, by your enemies, and by your allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (11)- I had encountered more wolves than dogs, and that's what I knew of the animals. Naturally, after that, they started calling me Cub as well. I didn't mind, especially since they got me an ice wolf pup that I also named Cub.  
> (12)- Rumor has it that his eyes are actually red, underneath the green Figure Eyes part, but I don't really care. The green suits him and his personality better than red, in my opinion.  
> (13)- Really..... I am disappointed in myself.  
> (14)- I've encountered quite a few feral vampires, who attack the first thing they see with the life-giving blood everything needs, besides the undead that aren't vampires, like liths, ghosts, wraiths, such and such.  
> (15)- I am legitimately confused here; what the hell, Molag Bal? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but this is certainly not like the Lord of Domination.  
> (16)- This is further proof that warpaint has gone out of style; he has an actual tattoo on his face.  
> (17)- Celestial Wizard Magic with Gate Keys is really exceptional, mainly because they use magic from both sides. Not the being in question, of course, but the Celestial World is used to provide magical power to open a rift in the normal world, which would normally take so much magical energy, it would take the power of a Dragon Slayer, or higher, to even hold the Gate open for several minutes. Something like holding two Gates open is incredibly hard, and even more is practically unheard of, as well as impractical. They have weaknesses for each other, like Leo and Aries, thanks to Karen Lilica.


	14. New Traits Explored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Face to Face by Daft Punk.

I pull out book after book, and Bickslow’s standing at the door, leaning on it.  
“You don’t expect me to read all of those, do you?”  
“Most of these are spell books, and some are skill books. You’ll learn your history from me, and more books. After you finish these.” I hand the books to him, and his smile remains as he strains under the weight of the books.  
“Now, start reading.”

With Bickslow setting about reading those books I gave him, along with committing the spells to memory, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with this, ‘Hey, your Mate is your apprentice and that’s probably why you chose him subconsciously because of the sound of his voice!’ I mean, how would a normal person deal with something like this?  
I snort a bit, looking out the window at my Mate. Wow, I’m thinking about that in a semi-normal context. Not sure whether or not I should feel proud of that.  
My train of thought catches up to me, and I remember that, for as long as I’ve been alive, or dead, er, undead, excuse me, I’ve always been rather proud that I’m different. In a mostly good way.  
But some things are weird even by my standards. And I’ve partied with the Daedric Prince of Debauchery. Sithis, that was a night to remember. I shiver a bit at the memory of the Hagraven whom I was engaged to…. Ergh.  
I shake off my thoughts and turn to look at the person below me. Is it just me, or is he paler?  
My eyes go wide, and if I could have gone paler myself, I would’ve. Said eyes drift to the books by me, on a table in the kitchen where I brought them in.  
Oh no…..  
This cannot be happening.  
I vault over the countertop and reach it in about two seconds flat, grabbing the books splayed out on the table. Telekinesis from my right hand summons my gale force reading glasses, and I speed read through the books using them.  
Not good, not good, not good……

Reading the Vampire part of it has enlightened me about several facts that I’m still trying to digest, but there’s nothing in there about this particular thing that I am worried about.  
It’s an hour later from when I started reading, and I take off the gale force reading glasses finally, pinching my nose again.  
Nothing. Nothing at all.  
What is this?  
Bickslow comes in from outside finally, his cheeks flushed from the cold setting in quickly. It’s easily enough to freeze the water outside, but to him, it’s just an abnormally cold breeze, of no consequence. His eyes look alive and his tongue is sticking out again. That trait’s beginning to grow on me, I believe.  
“What’s up, Listener?” he says, and I notice that he’s also taken off his shirt. I’m barely able to resist the urge to blush, but I do it. Somehow. Oh, by Sithis, this man….  
My apprentice grabs some water, sitting at the countertop of the kitchen where I’ve served him pancakes before.  
I sigh, looking at my notes and mentally going over it in my head. “I have no idea. And it’s frustrating me so badly I’m barely able to talk to you. If I was only, though…. No, that would actually probably add to the problem. Maybe.”  
“What are you talking about?” he asks, looking at me.  
“Thinking about some facts. And some things I’ve noticed, about you.”  
“So you were watching me!” he laughs at this, then stops at my serious expression.  
“For a time, yes, I was, but then something occurred to me. Would you like to know what it was?”

Bickslow’s POV  
Why does that sentence scare the crap out of me? Damn, I wish I had my babies around me to support me. They at least laugh with me.  
Suddenly unsure if I do want to know about it, I answer anyway, “Sure. Explain away.”  
I watch Listener’s face maintain a perfect poker face, and I gulp almost audibly at the seriousness of her aura. Her soul’s movements aren’t exactly comforting either. Normally, it has much more energy than her, allowing me to see her real emotions clearly and concisely. Normally, it’s a blood red, or maybe a gold if she’s doing extreme magic. Normally, I can see her aura clear as day, marking her as a wizard and making her presence known, even stronger than Laxus, or of Jura, which makes sense, seeing as she beat them both easily.  
But these don’t seem like normal circumstances. Not in the slightest.  
“Tell me, Bickslow, was it cold outside?” she asks, not looking me in the eyes, but outside instead. She’s shifted from her position, seated at the table, to over by the window overlooking where I was practicing, on the grass where the lake’s shore is.  
“Eh? Oh, not really.” Phew, I was afraid it was going to be a tough question. Easy as pie!  
She nods. “I was-am still- fearful of this.” Listener pauses for dramatic effect, then looks me straight in the eyes.  
“You’re gaining the characteristics of a vampire.”  
I blink. Once, twice.  
“What?”

Listener’s POV  
I sigh, looking at the person before me. “I’m reasonably sure that’s what’s happening to you. Look at the lake.”  
My apprentice takes another glance at me, then looks at the lake as requested.  
“It’s frozen.”  
I nod. “Any normal human would have noticed the temperature change within five minutes of such an event even starting to take place. You were out there for thirty minutes more. It was also a good deal darker than what you could normally see.”  
Before I told him he’s my Mate, I would have expected something like disbelief, followed by a heated debate, maybe. But this time, all I get is just- acceptance.  
“Is this supposed to happen?” he asks, absorbing the knowledge. “I mean, it’s cool and all, but honestly, this is a bit weird. Does it say so in the books?”  
“Not in mine.”  
He nods, and we share a glance before sprinting out of the kitchen, his food forgotten (18), and up the stairs to look at the rest of the books.  
This is gonna be a long night, isn’t it?  
Mentally sighing, I smile instead. I like these long nights with my Mate. My Mate, I repeat inside my head again.  
My Mate.  
My Bickslow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (18)- Which may or may not be necessary at this point. I have no clue; it's different for every vampire, especially newly turned ones that haven't started feeding on human blood yet. It's essential to do that as soon as possible, to kill off weaklings. What? We don't need idiotic vampires walking around taking people's blood as soon as they get a papercut.


	15. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Angel of Darkness.

Meanwhile, at the Fairy Tail guild….

Makarov POV

Laxus and the Thunder Legion have been out sending Lacrima, trying to trace where Listener, and presumably Bickslow, last was. Ever since they lost one of their own, they’ve practically been in a panic, with Freed snapping at people before they even open their mouths, Ever letting her appearance go to shreds besides a quick brushing of her hair, and Laxus not taking off his Sound Pod once, not even while sleeping.  
Needless to say, they’re taking it hard. The rest of the guild is too.  
Bickslow was a strong member, despite some conclusions that he’s weak due to being beaten by our Lucy. Few people know the strengths of Celestial Wizards, and Lucy has the Zodiac instead of ordinary spirits.  
When the rest of the Raijinshuu located a lead, everyone was ecstatic, swarming out in droves to find the elusive pair.  
What came back, however, sent Porlyusica and the guild members still here, not going or just returned from a mission, into a frenzy. Erza, Laxus, Natsu, Freed, and Evergreen were all down, not to mention the ones that Bickslow took out, too, Gray and Juvia.  
My fists clench thinking about it, and a vein in my temple throbs, indicating a headache coming. Why didn’t she kill them? Isn’t that her way?  
“Master?” Mira says softly, looking at me with a worried look on her sweet face. No one’s been very happy with this news, and Mira’s been worried sick from this.  
“Yes, Mira? What is it?” I ask gruffly, tension and unhappiness radiating from everyone in the guild.  
“You just look a little down. What’s wrong?” she asks, knowing very well what’s wrong.  
I sigh, though, ready to tell her my thoughts. Talking with her may help to solve this problem.  
“I’m trying to figure out why Listener didn’t kill the others; the ones that attacked her and Bickslow.”  
Mira frowns, returning to her place behind the bar. I’m sitting on the counter, my minute form easily resting upon the wood.  
“Well, maybe she’s trying to protect him.”  
“From what, though? She knows we’ll try again.”  
“Master, I don’t think that’s a good idea. If we do, I’m not sure if she’ll show the restraint she did last time.”  
“Sixth, I don’t think it’s a good idea either.” says Mavis, floating down from the ceiling above to join us in our conversation. “We don’t know her abilities.”  
“We can easily figure that out, though.” I point out. Not many mages, even as old as I am, know more than a couple of different spells, outside of their area of expertise.. And she looks young, almost like a teenager.  
“I don’t think that’s the case. She doesn’t seem…. Exactly human to me.” Mavis says, and Mira nods.  
“Exactly. The way that she defeated all ten Wizard Saints… It’d take a lot more force than that, and we’ve seen her use requipping magic, a summons for those beings and the stone creatures, plus that weird magic that Laxus and the others told us about. Throwing someone back, altering your form, with just your voice? I’ve never even heard of something like that.” Mira continues the First Master’s point.  
“So, we’d have to get all the Saints, and every high-level wizard we knew, just to match her magic level?”  
“Probably. Not even my skill with strategy would be able to keep up with her abilities. And with her teaching that knowledge to Bickslow, coupled with his Seith Magic and Figure Eyes ability, I don’t think, that even with all the high level Magic in the world, we’d be able to really hurt her if he joined her,” Mavis says, looking worriedly at the rest of the Raijinshuu.  
I sigh. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. “I don’t think he’d do that. Not after the Battle of Fairy Tail, he wouldn’t hurt another Guild member after that fiasco.”  
“Actually, Gramps, Bickslow hasn’t been doing anything bad like that because I’ve asked him not to.” says Laxus, Sound Pod off his ears finally.  
“What?” The guild goes silent, all members already tense.  
“After that happened, he didn’t want to stay here at all. I told him to stay, and he did for me, but I don’t think that he’d be really that opposed to sway over to Listener’s side. I mean, think about it. Bickslow hates all things White Magic, and this guild has it in it’s name. Fairies practically scream out white magic, while Bickslow…. does Dark Magic.”  
“Seith Magic isn’t dark!”  
“Where are you coming from, Laxus?”  
“Not even defending your own bodyguard? Sheesh!” various cries from the other members of the guild sound out.  
Laxus turns his head, glaring at the crowded tables. They’re silenced in a minute.  
“Seith Magic has it’s ups and downs just like every other magic. But it’s Human Possession, which Bickslow uses, that makes it considered Dark.”  
“That’s why he’s usually so secluded, even with us. He’s never killed a person, but a lot of times, the fact that he uses it at all warrants a lot of suspicion. The Raijinshuu were the only ones that really accepted him, and even then, it probably seemed iffy, because of our combined power.” says Freed, standing up and joining Laxus with Evergreen.  
“It’s more than likely that he might not come back to us. Even if he doesn’t want to be with his Master,” Evergreen practically spat out the word, not liking the situation one bit. “He might not want to be in Fairy Tail anymore, and maybe join a Dark Guild.”  
“Hey, Juvia, I’ve just had a thought.” says Gray, taking in the words of the remaining members of the Thunder God Tribe. “Didn’t Bickslow seem a lot stronger than he did before?”  
“You’re right, Gray-sama. Juvia did not think of it earlier, but his magical aura was almost doubled, Juvia thinks,” says the water witch, considering her memories.  
“Doubled?” I ask, looking at the pair.  
“Well, yeah. He stood our attacks easily, and even took both of us out,” Gray points out.  
Juvia simpers over her crush, adding, “Gray-sama even has a bruise from what happened!”  
Sure enough, Gray’s back looks like one big bruise, almost completely black.  
“How can a person’s magical power double in such a short amount of time?” Mavis and I look at each other, both of us puzzled.  
“Masters, couldn’t it be similar to getting a Second Origin the way that we did, before the Grand Magic Games?” Erza says, her movements slow and careful, trying to prevent further harm to her already damaged internal organs.  
“No, Erza, that leaves a magical residue that lingers for at least a week or so. It would alter his magical output enough that we would be able to tell.” says First Master Mavis, considering the questions laid bare on the table.  
“This is just getting better and better.” mutters Laxus, sitting down with the Thunder Legion minus one once more.  
I agree with my grandson. What is happening?  
What could possibly be going on?

Neloth’s POV

Honestly, if that girl could get any more full of herself, then her head would explode. Honestly!  
I grumble to myself, walking around my traditional Telvanni tower in a rage. There’s something going on with her, and I want to know what it is. Sincerely.  
The girl, the Dragonborn, a vampire, is just… frustrating. Rather lovely, and a willing test subject, but that’s not the point. Damn, if only I had an assistant. What was his name…. Talvas? Yes, that’s it. He died. Listener was very upset at that, and told me to not get another one without warning them that they’d probably die in one of my experiments. Of course, with that knowledge in hand, they obviously didn’t have anything resembling courage and didn’t accept my offer.  
My research, however, has given me a purpose, and to continue it, I agreed to be in service to Listener, when she requested it for me. She’s never really done anything bad, just a few interruptions in experiments. The spells she requests, however, are usually complex and fairly interesting, so they’re helpful in alleviating stress for me in particular halts in my research.  
I sigh. Usually, she’d be up here already, demanding my attention and interrupting my experiments concerning the disappearance and diffusion of the main types of magic. However, she hasn’t shown up for quite some time, I believe.  
Frowning, I can’t remember what day it is, or when she last checked in. A hovering lacrima, also emitting light like a Candlelight spell, following me, informs me that it is, in fact, the 30th of Frost Fall, in the Old Calendar. I think back….  
The last time she was here was Mid Year, on the twenty-eighth. What is this madness? I must find her and inform her of this fact that needs to be corrected immediately.

Serana POV

Soon, I should tell her about that little detail. It did, in fact, slip my mind when we talked in Sun’s Height.  
Eh, I’ll tell her when she screams at me over a communication lacrima. She’ll be quite, er, weak, for a while.  
Possibly. Probably. Most definitely. In fact, it’s probably already started, and she’s too stubborn to admit that she’s in pain. Tch. Typical L.


	16. New Weaknesses and Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Clouds by Omnipony.

Months into apprenticeship: 4

“No, Bickslow, hold it like it’s a paint brush, firmly but delicately.” I say, looking at my apprentice.  
“That doesn’t make any sense.” he says, but follows my instructions to the best of his ability. In the months we’ve known each other, and the months since I told Bickslow we were Mates, trust has grown between us, somehow. It’s a feeling that I’m not familiar with, for good reason. My past is littered with betrayal and backstabbing.  
Bickslow’s practicing his sword work, but with a dagger of steel. There’s no point in getting him hurt with something so simple.  
An instant after I give him the instructions, he’s gotten it and he’s conquered the magical construct I set up for him, a being of fire made with Marionette Magic. It’s good to hurt something simple like that, that doesn’t actually feel the pain of the world. Marionette Magic actually doesn’t give things a consciousness, which most people believe. Neloth actually performed several experiments on the magic to confirm it, and indeed, he did.  
Bickslow’s dagger strikes into the heart of the construct, and a twist sends a shudder through it’s core, before it giving a cry and exploding like a Flame Atronach. He’s already far away, useful way of escape, acrobatics. It’s not always for show, you know.  
My apprentice sticks out his tongue characteristically, but instead of his Fairy Tail guild mark, his tongue is simply bare, though it does still seem a bit crazy. The ink has long ago faded, and I do not know enough about the guild to make it for him, even if I wished to.  
His maniacal laugh follows, and I smile. It’s easier these days, and my papers draw my eyes once more. I turn back to them with a sigh. The practice room ill fits a table.  
“That was fun!” says my Mate, looking around with eagerness apparent in his body language. “Let’s try it with my babies!”  
The Tome-Men spin above his head, repeating ‘fun’ still. His number of souls captured in the puppets has grown, until he now has his current number, 8, a gift from me for exemplary and quick mastery of new magical powers. The new ones are named LaLa, LeLe, and LiLi, apparently in gratitude. It’s adorable, though, so it doesn’t bother me.  
I glance at him, and nod. “Go for it. Just wait for me to get out of the blast zone.”  
He smirks, and opens the door for me, his babies carrying my papers in between them with my quill and ink.  
I stand and stretch before following the Tome-Men through the doorway, their tiny voices squealing and laughing, echoing their happy master. Each one giggles as I pat it on the top, or as close as I can get when they’re floating around and flipping in the air like they are.  
Nothing is quite as satisfying as knowing that my Mate is with me in my house, training to become stronger, as strong as me. My pride is barely contained, as of now.  
Interestingly enough, he wants to learn everything I can teach him, including the Voice. Which, a) I have no idea how to teach, and b) I’m not even sure that it can be taught in a year.  
I’m banking on the Mate thing here, though, and that should help speed the process up before he’s an old man just learning Fus Ro Dah, Unrelenting Force.  
I bite back a smile as I think about his first attempt at a Shout. He fell flat on his back and his babies fell on top of him. Adorable. Or, at least, funny.  
The paperwork is in my hand, and I haven’t even glanced at the first one on top. I flick through it, and discover that it’s a letter from Decimus, to Bickslow. My smile breaks free from my hold on it, and seals itself upon my face for a time. The two have become very good friends, ever since I brought Bickslow back to the Sanctuary and allowed him to wander around, instead of getting medical attention from Babette.  
Unfortunately, next to that, is a letter from Neloth. I groan internally, walking to my study subconsciously. His letters are always accompanied by whining, complaints, and pleas for test subjects, i. e. me, because he can’t afford having other people steal his work. That’s been going on ever since more scholars got into magic and studying it. Magical Theory has opened up a huge realm of opportunity to people who don’t have anything like that accessible to them.  
Cursing myself, I wince in pain as I climb the stairs, trying to stretch my back. Something’s sapping my strength, both magical and physical. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to have a fight with anyone potent for a while now. Bickslow’s progress has made it hard for me to avoid sparring with him to judge his magical strength, though by now, it’s probably at least at a Dragon Slayer’s level, if not more. Little doubt remains in my mind that he could fight Laxus and win.  
The door slides open easily to my study, and I ease into the chair, still wincing occasionally. Even sitting down doesn’t seem to calm it, and no matter what I do, I can feel it sapping my strength, and perhaps even my health a bit, with it. The new influx of magical power probably has something to do with it, as normally a wizard’s power grows slowly, as they excel in certain areas and lack in others, but with Bickslow’s proximity to me, his magic’s growing to the point that I can feel a shift in the balance of the wizard world. Magic is subconsciously being drawn to this place. I believe a guild has even been established near the train station that’s just down the hill from here.  
Unfortunately, that also means that this won’t help matters of hiding. The magical signatures aren’t working to disguise our presence here, but honestly, with the defenses here, I won’t have to worry about it for a while.  
Another twinge in my side, and I shift slightly to alleviate the pain that’s constantly coursing through my body. I don’t even know how to explain this, and it’s driving me crazy!  
Not crazy crazy, though, because then I’d be raving about cheese and dancers and…. I’ll stop talking now before I go insane myself.  
I take a breath, though, and open Neloth’s letter, trying to ready myself for it. His are always interesting, to put it likely.

‘Listener-  
I don’t know what’s going on, but I haven’t seen you in months! For some strange reason. I have, easily, developed seven new spells that need testing, and you’re the only test subject that you allow me to use. I demand that you visit me as soon as you get this letter, and come fast! These can’t delay, obviously, and if you’d visited me sooner, you’d know that yourself!  
Neloth  
Telvanni Master Wizard’

Below the Telvanni Master Wizard part, there are a bunch more titles, but that’s the only one that I really know or care about.  
I sigh, looking at the letter. That’s just not even fun, or fair. Curse you, Neloth, you damn Telvanni Wizard. Why did I make you immortal? Why?  
Sometimes I truly do question my judgement.  
Sadly, Neloth gets what Neloth wants, and if he doesn’t he throws a hissy fit. I’m not even going to give him the satisfaction of visiting him. I have things to teach my apprentice, and something strange to deal with.  
Another dollop of pain adds to the stress right now, and I feel my body crying out for blood, stating, quite accurately, that there is an able body in the same god damn house as me, in this very instance.  
My moment of weakness passes, though, and I resolve I need to go to Babette and get this checked out, or something. It seems like the smart thing to do right now, and it’s not that bad for Bickslow to socialize, outside of our interactions. I’m trying to train him in everything I know, not just magic. Talking is a skill that is deadly useful for everyone, though not that many people develop it enough to actually use it to the full extent they could. For example, I can sell stolen items to anyone and bribe every guard I meet without any consequences, really. However, with normal people, expression does not come easily to me.  
I recall the timetables for the train, and pick up the rest of the paperwork. I don’t really want to do it, but I will. On the train. Procrastination, I have a case of it that’s rather bad. Only concerning some things, though.  
I press my hand to the wall of the study, standing up from my chair and moving away from the desk. Communication is possible here through the building from the blood magic and verification I use to make sure it’s secure. “Bickslow, we’re going to the Sanctuary. Grab some clothes and a disguise, if you would.”  
“You got it, Listener! My babies and I were just finishing up!” I hear back, and laugh slightly. His fascination with his babies is adorable, just like the puppets themselves.  
My face stretches in a smile, as I vaguely hear his babies saying something, before I take my hand completely off the wall. The smile, however, soon slips off my face as another wave of pain hits me, leaving me to try not to collapse from it. This is bad.....

We’re on the train, Bickslow and I, and for once, I feel fine, like the sickness has stopped beating me up from the inside for a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, this also means that Bickslow has my full attention, and he’s asking enough rapid-fire questions about random things that it’s making me dizzy sitting down. Good with the bad, although I don’t believe anything about Bickslow is bad. He’s just one of those inherently good people. Somehow, he got tied up with me. Because Destiny.  
Finally, his questions die down with a few historic ones tapering off his curiosity about the things he hasn’t asked about yet, and he gets my paperwork out for me with my ink and quill, before sitting beside me and helping me. My apprentice, my Mate, all mine.  
Of course, he isn’t actually helping, but truthfully, I don’t mind. The sickness that’s been hitting for a while now seems like it’ll be fine as long as I don’t stray too far from Bickslow.  
The train ride ends all too soon, and I prepare myself for more of the rocking, swirling sensations that have become all too familiar with me. However, the town is eerily quiet, and I cannot actually remember any other people on the train with us besides the conductors.  
Any normal person would, perhaps, have shrugged it off, but I do not believe in such coincidences.  
“Bickslow, keep up.” I whisper to my apprentice, going invisible and starting to run to the Sanctuary. He follows my actions, seeing my soul so that he doesn’t lose me. Sincerely handy in times like this.  
By the time we reach the Sanctuary, I haven’t seen one other person and I’m starting to see things, paranoia kicking in quickly. Hopefully it’s nothing, but I do feel like I’m being watched by more than just my apprentice.  
The door to our Home swings open easily, at the touch of my hand, and we slip in, Bickslow easing the door shut until we hear a tell-tale hiss that tells us it’s well and truly closed. No traitors here, please.  
I walk in hurriedly to the place, looking around for Babette as Bickslow starts off in search of Decimus.  
The eternal, ten year old vampire is sitting in her quarters, reading a copy of the Five Tenets.  
“Babette, Sister, I need your help.” I gasp, the pain starting to breach my barriers, an impressive feat in itself to even approach them.  
She sighs. “If only you could stop greeting me like that, it’d be much better for our relationship.”  
Nonetheless, she gets up as I close the door and sit down, eyes closing.  
“What’s wrong, Listener?” she asks, her curious face aligning perfectly with the one in my memory when I open my eyes.  
“Can you do an abdominal scan, Babette?” I eek out, trying not to scream.  
Babette, my dearest Sister, unquestioning, does the task I requested of her, and comes back looking confused.  
“This shouldn’t be possible, but apparently it is.” she whispers, but she knows I can hear.  
“What, Babette?” I sigh, again in pain.  
Of course, Babette doesn’t get to answer my question, because the Sanctuary explodes.  
And I was just getting to love the entrance.


	17. Battles for Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Blown Away by Carrie Underwood.

I wake up, ears ringing, looking around blearily, finding myself covered in rubble and still in Babette’s room, although the ceiling looks like it’s kind of reached it’s limit right now. My glances around the room reveal that Babette is buried underneath rubble.  
“FUS!” I Shout, but it comes out as more of a whisper. It’s more than enough, however, to move the rubble on top of me so I can escape by wriggling around a bit, and more than enough to drain me. I push myself up, using a larger piece of the rubble that’s landed in Babette’s room, resting a bit. My legs were crushed for at least a few minutes, and I have no idea how to judge how much time has passed. I move through the room, though, refusing to let my Sister die right now. I’ve seen too much death here, of the familial kind.  
Naturally, however, Bickslow comes down at the sound of my Voice, and sends his babies to catch me before I fall onto the stone floor from the rock I was resting on.  
“Listener, are you alright?” Bickslow cries out, his voice wavering a bit. Or is that my imagination? I’m not sure anymore.  
“Help me… get Babette out.” I pant, groaning a bit. The pain doubled, so I’m rather surprised I’m even able to stand.  
Bickslow nods, his worried glance falling on me, not moving. His babies help me up, into a standing position, and I move over to where Babette was, crouching down and pushing against the stone crushing her fragile body.  
However, I cannot move it, despite all my wishes to do so. I slump against it, tears starting to from in my eyes. I blink them away, though, when Bickslow moves to help me, grunting and pushing against the rock, lifting it off my Sister’s body enough for me to slide her out.  
I gasp, looking at her injuries. “Babette…”  
Her left shoulder is a mess, crushed from taking the brunt of the rock, and her face is covered with dirt and blood, new blood continually leaking out of a gash on her forehead. Her legs are mangled, and even if she survives, I doubt she’ll be able to walk again.  
I huddle her to my chest, just being near her, knowing she’s knocking on death’s door.  
“Listener….” she coughs out, blood dribbling from her mouth. “Listener,” she begins again, looking at me with pleading eyes. “Promise me…. promise me that you’ll raise your child properly and teach them everything you know.” she whispers in my ear.  
“What? But…. I’m not…” I start, before I’m silenced by Babette’s glare.  
“Shut up, Listener. You are with child, and Bickslow…. Bickslow is the father.”  
My Sister dies in my arms, and I kiss her on the forehead, closing her eyes for the last time. “May you find your love in the Void, and be at peace.”  
Bickslow’s silent, taking in what just happened. He didn’t hear her, miraculously. I’m still doing so to, for very different reasons, before I stand up after laying her on the ground. Standing up, however, is a bad idea, because as soon as I do, I feel dizzy and fatigued, fainting before I know what’s really going on.

I wake up a few minutes later, which I only know because Decimus is telling Bickslow what to do. Somehow, he’s survived, and I’m grateful. My magical senses pan out, taking in the scene that I haven’t opened my eyes to. I don’t want to yet, because I’ve already lost one Family member and I don’t want to know any more deaths of them right now.  
However, my senses disturb me and I find the dead body of my Brother, who, for so long, was by my side through thick and thin. Nelkir, finally married to the love of his life, Aventus, is dead and gone, breaking a path to the Void.  
A tear threatens to break through my armor, and it escapes my control, it finally cracking. My Family….. they’re dead.  
Almost all of them. Gone.  
My body aches, the pain intense from the thing inside my stomach, and my heart hurts with a pain I have long since been familiar with, though I have not often felt it. The pain of losing Family members…. makes me angry.  
I feel my power coursing through my veins, and I can feel a major magical source, hostile to us and near. Makarov. I can tell, it’s the Fairy Tail Master and his brats.  
My eyes open, glowing red and crackling with power. An inner magical source is being tapped into, and I lunge up, the two others in the room looking at me strangely and somewhat fearfully.  
“MAKAROV!” I Shout out, my Voice shaking the place even further and unsettling some dirt that falls through, masking some of my dramatic exit. I storm out of the Sanctuary, topside, to about fifteen feet away from Makarov’s short stature. His entire guild is behind him.  
He’s shocked to see me. “Listener! How-”  
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. Telekinesis shoves his mouth closed.   
“You, Makarov, have destroyed the Family I have worked so hard to maintain and create. Today,” I pause, drawing out a sword, Dragonbane, figuring that the Dragon Slayers in his guild will also be hurt by this. “YOU DIE!”  
Maybe I’m going a bit far, but I do not care right now. My Family is the most precious thing in my life, except perhaps my Mate and my, erm, our, child.  
“Mul Qah Diiv!” I Shout out, Dragon Aspect fortifying my magic and my combat abilities, adding to everything I’m doing. Dragonbane’s sparks play across the blade as I sprint towards the following in the streets.   
“Strun Bah Qo!” My Voice sounds out, summoning a storm that would put a Storm Mage to shame. Interestingly enough, I feel an extra strong wind blowing my way, ruffling my hair a bit.  
My rage is somehow still locked away, although more and more is escaping by the second.  
The air clears enough so that I can be seen, with my sword, no armor and hair flowing freely. In the middle of the battle I requipped unknowingly, so that no armor is currently touching my skin, just my robes, in a tribute to my fallen kin. A rare occasion for me.  
I turn to look at the Fairy Tail guild, and study them, taking in their powers and prowess on the magical scale.  
“You have committed a grave error, Fairy Tail.” Is all I say, knowing that it will a) provoke a response from a hothead devoted to the guild, and b) cow the weaker ones.  
“Fairy Tail is trying to get back one of our one, one you stole from us!” shouts out Erza Scarlet, the Fairy Queen.  
“Hah. That’s rich. So you kill what is left of my Family? Is that right? I did not know that such people were allowed to be in a legal guild. At least we do it because we have no other ways of life! You people, you, you just destroy everything that others work for! You are nothing. Worse than the dirt that adorns Nirn, and you have no right to walk upon my ancestral soil!” I scream out, my emotions tearing through me, pain coursing along my body to boot.  
My armor reforms around me, Ebony Mail flaring out and Konahrik taking it’s place upon my face. The Mace of Molag Bal and Mehrunes’ Razor form by my side, Spellbreaker on my left arm. Dawnbreaker joins its brethren in my hand, taking the place of Dragonbane, both sword and shield firmly grasped and raised.  
“Bring all you have. I’ll take it.” I say, challenging the guild.  
They answer with a roar, the strongest ones leading the charge while Makarov simply stands there, parting the wake and watching me with a frown on my face.  
Laxus, Mirajane, and Erza all rush at me, Laxus in Dragon Slayer full out, using a secret spell, Mirajane in her ultimate Satan Soul form, and Erza in Adamantite Armor, using her strongest swords.  
My eyes glow brighter, and I yell, bringing up Spellbreaker in a block and warding against their attack, knowing it won’t hold it back.  
Fire magic forms underneath my fingertips (19), and I let it loose, drawing up my sword as soon as I do, watching the wind around the town lock onto my magic. They get drawn in, aided by some unknown force, although it’s laced with different magic, powerful and large. A fire storm springs up, viciously flinging back the people charging forward except for their best warriors, Laxus, Erza, and Mirajane. Whirlwind cloak forms around my body, flinging the S-class wizards of Fairy Tail away from me, along with any harmful fire.  
My Voice flings away from me, carrying the next wave, the rest of the Dragon Slayers, away from me. The Ebony Blade shimmers into existence, attached to my back, and I draw it out, parrying a blow from Titania, and jumping back to avoid a strike from Mira.  
Laxus creeps up behind me and hits me with a severe lightning spell, and I sink to my knees, gasping for air. The pain intensifies, but my rage is leaving me drained. I almost feel like I’m overwhelmed, and need to retreat.  
But I can always count on my Family. I’m just now realizing that I consider Bickslow to be a part of my Family.  
My Mate is out of the rubble, supporting Decimus, when he sees Laxus, his Thunder God, his idol, the one he betrayed his own guild for, attack me. If I concentrate, I can feel his rage at this sight, but I barely have enough time to do that before I’m hit by Erza, slicing down at me with her sword.  
I hear a phantom sound, something that couldn’t possibly be here, but I hear it nonetheless. I can tell Bickslow hears it too. A little voice, barely more than a whisper, just… screaming.  
Bickslow’s puppets swarm behind Laxus, and a Point-Blank Baryon formation sends him flying across the town, into several buildings.  
The other two S-class wizards, they pause, and it’s enough for me to rush backwards, the Ebony Mail’s poison mist flaring out behind me.  
“Bickslow…” whispers out his former team mates, looking at him with stunned eyes.  
“No one. Touches her.” he growls out, his puppets’ exterior no longer cheerful and somehow, they’ve turned ominous. Remarkable.  
“You!” Erza turns to me, the guild’s attention snapping back on. “You’ve turned him into a monster!”  
I growl at her. “Bickslow is no monster; you are the ones who are attacking without a cause. You’ve killed my Family!”  
Erza Scarlet is an accurate name for her, because she’s a hothead. She charges at me, changing into a very revealing armor with leopard spots and kitty ears, running even faster.  
Instead of stepping out of the way, I Shout, “Wuld!” and meet her before she’s ready, slicing at her midsection and stopping her assault before it lands.  
The girl stops, stands for a moment, gasps, then falls down.  
Mirajane, the Demon, follows her guildmate, screaming out in anger, simply using a dark spell that I invented and mastered long ago.  
“Silly little girl, you are.” I state, pulling back a Sunhallowed arrow in Auriel’s bow as quick as can be. Unleashed, it strikes true, and hits her with a burst of sunlight, her screech of pain music to my ears.   
The rest of Fairy Tail halts, stunned, as their strongest members were taken done, yet again, fairly easily and quickly.  
Then the Dragon Slayers realize they’re the next ones up, and they jump to it, using Secret or Ultimate Slayer attacks. Sadly, the magic consumed in using said spells only really works if you think about it this way. They have to impact the person, otherwise it’s just a waste of magic energy.  
I jump back, using a back handspring, and I land on my feet, sliding a bit. I’m still a bit winded, though, and it’s annoying me. I don’t fancy going head to head with three Dragon Slayers, as I am right now.  
“What? Never seen the Ultimate Dragon Slayer at work?” I say, Konahrik covering my smile while conveying my feelings.  
The pink haired one, a Fire Dragon Slayer, jumps at me, his fist on fire, nothing coming from his mouth but an incomprehensible roar. Probably talking in his head about something.  
“Tch.” I say, my face going into a frown instead of my previous grin. I run away from my spot, making him miss, and punching the Sky Dragon Slayer, the tiny one with blue hair, across the street. She lands in a building, and doesn’t get up. I normally wouldn’t even have hurt someone that was so childlike, but they’re why Babette is dead.  
Babette….  
My eyes go cloudy, and I scream, from the pain and the aches, the aches and the wounds unstitched and ripped open from this tragedy. Magic gathers around me, making an impenetrable sphere around where I am, and, once I can give no more magic to the spell, it releases, sending out a wave of magic so strong I don’t think anyone didn’t feel it, even non-wizards.  
I hear startled cries, and the interruption of several powerful spells, as well as regular ones. The wave of magic disrupts them, drawing in the magical energy to feed its power long enough to knock the people in the town unconscious. Which, as it happens, is just Fairy Tail wizards, thanks to Makarov’s planning.  
Just my luck, though, because the magical output I just used is enough to wipe me out for at least a few days, more in the sunlight.  
While the spell is still going, it starts to feed on my health and stamina, now that I’m out of magic. The pain intensifies, and I feel a craving for blood that I haven’t felt this intense in years. My beastial side is threatening to take over, trying to transform me forcibly into Vampire Lord form, but I haven’t done that in such a long time that it’s hard to remember how I even move in that form.  
The fangs don’t retract with the bloodlust, and the spell, when it finally leaves the town and spreads out, leaves me as vulnerable as a kitten. I have such little strength right now, a breeze could knock me over.  
I collapse to the ground, gasping for air, trying to breath normally, but all I can do is pant. Remembering an ability to recover my health, magicka, and stamina, I use it, but the pain- er, child, in me is draining me even more now.  
I roll over onto my back, and stare up at the sky, a bright blue color greeting me and the sun still shining, no clouds in the sky. A sigh escapes me lips, and my armor and weapons disappear, back into a magical dimension for storing such things.  
My bare face greets the day around me, and by natural instinct I requip into normal clothes, the Savior’s hide forming around my body and random cloth wrapping around my feet and hands, wrapping wounds caused by the spell. My hair flows freely, glinting golden in the sunlight around us. I forgot how wonderful High Elves’ hair is.  
I simply lie on the ground, facing the sky, looking at the world as much as I can. It’s been so long since something like this has happened.  
I’m still lying down like this when Bickslow and Decimus come running to find me, the magic trail leading them right to me.  
“Listener!’ shouts Bickslow, finally spying me. He runs up, and I crack a smile.  
“Hey Bickslow, miss me?” I say, not moving any more than I have to to breath.  
My apprentice doesn’t even regard that fact, and drops down on his knees, picking me up and hugging me. No longer does such close contact bother me, except for the fact that I’m craving his blood right now.  
Decimus stays away, looking through the rubble of the sanctuary.  
I look at Bickslow, still not wearing his helmet, and sigh. His eyes open, and he glances at me, worry evident still in his eyes.  
“I think I need to bite you.” I say, wanting to get his permission first.  
He nods without hesitation, surprising me, turning his head to the side in the same movement. My teeth glint brightly in the sunlight, and I bite into his neck, sucking out the blood of life that feeds me and my kind.  
It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, and yet again, I wish I could see his soul, because I know that it’s pure as anything I’ve ever known.  
I detach once I feel the pain no longer, and when I do, he’s still perfectly fine, like it’s nothing at all that just happened. In fact, it’s more like he had a deep sleep, with only the choicest dreams.  
The puncture marks formed by my teeth heal up quickly, even faster than I’d ever anticipated could be possible.  
We look at each other, then get up, me leaning on my Mate and his dolls still helping me walk in a straight line, or as close to it as I can right now.  
I sigh, my head lolling onto his shoulder. I can’t believe it. The Fairy Tail guild, attacking us, killing our members, and burying our Sanctuary. Some people will go to huge lengths for their family.  
I’m also one of those people. And revenge is one of my strong suits.  
However, I look at my apprentice, and see that he has no concern over that, just looking at me. My hatred of the guild he was in bubbles away, at least for now.  
I do think, before that happens, we’ll be having a trip with our new Family, while rebuilding it.  
I sigh. Plans, plans, so many plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (19)- This should be impossible, but for someone as experienced as I am in combat, with both these artifacts, as well as my own heritage, probably made it work so.


	18. Hurried Packaging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Babs Seed, Assertive Remix.

We join Decimus, me still leaning on my Mate. I can’t help but feel at least some joy at the fact that his entire guild couldn’t separate us, even with my weakness at the moment.  
The sadness that Decimus carries with him, though, at the destruction of the Sanctuary, is infectious, as soon as I recall that Babette, one of my greatest friends and in charge of the Sanctuary when I wasn’t there, an Executioner. Cassiopea, a newer recruit from a destroyed Dark Guild, looking to ply her trade here among equal peers, an Eliminator. Circe, an excellent sorceress with skills growing every day in her magic of choice, Dark God Slayer Magic, something that would have equalled a Saint in power someday, an Assassin. Kazuki and Seong, a set of twins that used Fire and Snow magic respectively, both Slayers.  
And Nelkir….  
Oh, Gods above, Nelkir.  
“Well, Listener, what should we do?” asks Decimus, a handful of gravel running out of his hand onto the ground below, standing up and looking at it fall.  
I sigh. “We have to dig up the Night Mother before Aventus shows up and tries to kill me, which he might succeed in doing.”  
Bickslow growls. “He can try.”  
His babies echo his sentence fully, nothing omitted. I’m touched by the show of concern, and feel warmth coming from my stomach.  
Decimus nods I said. “He’s not going to be pleased in the least. Let’s find her.”  
The three of us set to looking, trying to find her with me. Bickslow’s dolls, however, find the entrance to the Sanctuary easily, and he yells at us. “This way,”  
He leads the way, clearing a path out of the rubble with Telekinesis and holding it in place with Gravity magic, in the case of the ceiling. Besides Marionette, Magical Drain, and Illusion magic, I’ve taught him much more, Gravity, Telepathy, Sound, and we’re working on Mirror as well.  
The Sanctuary door opens at his touch easily, and I’m shocked even now at how he’s just accepted so readily by the protections around this place.  
Decimus goes around, trying to recover any things he can, as well as the bodies of our Family members.  
Bickslow and I start to search for the Night Mother, and I’m closer to tears than I’ve ever been, since the first Purification I had to perform, though it was not by my hand entirely.  
“Wait, who is the Night Mother, exactly?” asks Bickslow, moving a boulder with Telekinesis over to a place that needs support. It’s a team effort, the Gravity and Telekinesis magic needing two people holding them separately to avoid the ceiling falling down on us.  
“The Night Mother is the Matron of the Dark Brotherhood, and we… uh, I listen to her to hear the prayers of people who have prayed to her for a contract. Every time, however, there is a price to be paid…. ermf. A blood price, and a price in the material world. Well, the blood price is more of a soul price. Anyone killed by a Dark Brother or Sister, their soul is sentenced to the Void, at least in their eyes. The Dark Brothers and Sisters, however, are also sent to the Void, to be with our….. ugh. Our Dread Father, Sithis.”  
I’m feeling faint from the fight still, and the expenditure of magical energy isn’t exactly helping matters. However, we’ve cleared the way through the hallway to the Night Mother’s place.  
“So, she’s your god?” he asks, watching me sway a bit uncertainly on my feet as I open the door to it.  
“No, not exactly. She’s more like your Guild Master, Makarov. You admire him, yes? It’s sort of the same thing. You listen to what he has to say, and follow his orders, but you don’t worship him. Really, it’s more like a familial relationship, which is why we call each other Brother and Sister. The Night Mother and the Dread Father keep us safe and sound, around the world and help us grow and learn. When we die, or when we kill someone, their soul goes to him, in the Void. Which he is. It’s complicated to explain.” I say, fully swinging open the door, letting the Night Mother’s coffin fully into his sight.  
“This is her coffin, but this place will not be her tomb.” I say, reaching out with my magic and levitating the coffin over here, albeit slowly. I’m so low on magicka, though, that I know it’s going to fall soon.  
Bickslow’s puppets, however, save the day, balancing the Night Mother and her coffin on themselves, the Tome Men calling out merrily as they do so, “No tomb! No tomb!”  
I laugh a bit, it coming out as a weak chuckle. I’m too tired for much else, other than transporting Mother’s coffin to someplace safe. We’ll have to find a new Sanctuary.  
Bickslow wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I lean on him. This may be an unintentional Purification, brought about by me, yet again, but the real suspects are currently unconscious up top. I have nothing to say to them, and they should never cross my path again if they wish to live a long life.

Decimus meets up with us in a few minutes, outside the Sanctuary, sitting on a larger boulder.  
“Let us go, then.”  
“There’s someone coming. Let’s wait.” I state, leaning more against my Mate. His grip tightens around me, and he growls a bit.  
“Calm down. He’s friendly.” The new visitor appears, floating in the sky with a scythe, a good distance away.  
“Come closer, friend. We will not hurt you.” I say, shaking off Bickslow’s arm and standing up, not swaying a bit. This is not a time for weakness. Rebuilding a Family is something I have done many times. Often, quite sadly.  
The figure does what I ask, and comes closer. He’s wearing a skirt, with no shirt, and half of his hair, in the form of bangs, is in front of his left eye.  
“Erigor, a former Death God of Eisenwald. What brings you here?” I ask, my hands clasped behind my back.  
“You were the one who summoned that huge storm, aren’t you?” he questions, looking at me from his perch on his scythe, hovering a few feet above the ground.  
“Yes, that was me, Erigor. You have not answered my question.” I say, looking at him. My eyes roam over his body, and my magical senses tell me he’s quite a powerful mage.  
“I wanted to know if you’d teach me how to do that.” he speaks, and I look at him.  
“I already have an apprentice. However, would you like to join our Family now? I’ve been searching for you for some time, actually. Your assassinations are rather remarkable and cleanly cut.” Honesty is sometimes the best policy. Sometimes.  
“Really?” he asks, eyes wide. I nod in response, reading him as easily as a book.  
“Yes, Erigor.”  
“I’ll join.” he replies. “Could I take care of some stuff first, though?”  
I smile. “Of course. Take as much time as you need, and use this lacrima to contact me when you’re ready so I can give you our location.” I toss a blue communication lacrima at him, attuning it to his magic only.  
“Farewell, Erigor. Join our Family soon.” I turn away from him, and motion for the others to gather around me. Bickslow’s dolls carry the coffin of Mother with them, and once they’re close enough, and our little party are within my limits, I teleport us to the estate, or as close as I can get us.  
“Home sweet home.” I breath, looking up at it. I have to use Highborn to stop falling over.  
Bickslow nods in agreement. “Home sweet home.”

First thing I do when we’re all inside the estates, after keying in Decimus, I summon Cicero and leave him to tend to his duties, since there is no longer a living Keeper. There hasn’t been since him, everyone in the Black Hand prefers killing to keeping.  
“Grab everything you might want, Bickslow, and Decimus, pack up the kitchen’s supply of nonperishable food and anything else that you might think is useful.” I throw a bag at both of them, with an extensive amount of space on it due to the spells I’ve woven in emergency preparedness.  
The two nod at me, immediately setting about their tasks and I glance around at the walls of the house, before racing upstairs and pressing my hand to the wall, opening up the enchanting tower. Inside, I grab everything I see, whisking it away into my bag with a practiced ease I haven’t had to use in over a century. Or several. I lose track of time fairly easily, with how long I’ve been alive.  
After barely thirty seconds, I’m out of there, in the study and adding several items to it, including every book I find. This is a very precious library, all throughout the house. Speaking of which, I save the knowledge room’s precious treasures, grabbing more and more bags and sending them into a zero dimension, including the chest with the books in it already bound and locked.  
Elder Scrolls are next, along with the Black Books, stuffed into my bag with barely a second’s thought, and through the brief contact with the Books, I can tell that Hermaeus Mora’s confused by this sudden change of events. With the wealth of knowledge flooding the world now, it’s to be expected, since most of the time he’s just been reading books, and there are way more authors now than ever before.  
My Keys are on my belt, with Mehrunes’ Razor strapped to my thigh, easily accessible and daring anyone to cross me, and Dragonbane on my left, Spellbreaker on my arm.  
The forge down below opens up at my touch, and racing down, I secure the supplies in a safe, while locking down my shrines to the Gods and to Sithis and the Daedra so no one can touch them. Any defacement of a shrine is not pretty, even for a false god. (20)  
Once I emerge from my forge, I see the boys are all packed and ready to go, with everything they could lay their hands on. A smile worms it’s way onto my face, and I shrink the pile down, to one tenth of it’s size, sliding it into my bag, the only one that’s not shrunken.  
“All right. Cicero, the Night Mother, if you please.” I call out, and Cicero comes, carrying the Night Mother, huffing and puffing way too much for a ghost.  
Oh, yes, he’s fully dead and gone, but we keep him because he’s the only one who knows how to Keep the Night Mother, for she hasn’t been in her crypt in ages. We have been mostly focused in Fiore, for good reason. Lots of activity here made it easier to be undetected, and we quickly slithered in like a snake dripping poison, gaining a reputation for our quick and silent kills, or, when necessary, nasty public executions. Those are more common with royalty, though.  
Once close enough, he sets the coffin down, and I shrink her, too, for convenience in travel and blending in. A place that has a giant iron coffin isn’t exactly the most inconspicuous thing in the world.  
With his task completed, for now, Cicero dissolves into vapor, melting into the wind and leaving until I summon him again.  
“Closer, if you please. I don’t know how much time we have before Aventus figures it out and comes for bloody revenge, or something like that.” I say, preparing the spell. The two others in my house come closer to me, both looking worried at my statement. I’m not joking; I wish to the Void I was, but I’m not.  
Aventus may very well try to kill us should he see us. I’m not bluffing; I don’t think he would hesitate if he had the chance. I’m supposed to….  
I shake my head, clearing it of such thoughts. They won’t help us now.  
With all of us within my spell’s short range for actual transport, I pick a location, far enough away that, by foot, land, or sea, it would take at least a while to get there, a week or more.  
Upon releasing the spell carefully crafted by me, I feel a tiny quake, not from the earth, but from the Night Mother.  
“I whisper in your ear right now, Listener, for it is of dire need you continue with your escapade. Aventus Aretino has discovered what has occurred, and is coming after you. You have carried our family for years; he wants to see you destroyed, and then, all you have accomplished.”  
Her voice dies from my ears, and magic swarms around us, carrying us from the estate to the destination I picked, a nice sunny spot in the landmass that used to be called Tamriel. It also has a hot springs.  
What, did you expect any less of me? I do need my beauty rest, and I don’t exactly have the best ethics in the world for sleeping on the road while travelling.  
Hm….. did I pack a swimsuit?

“So, where are we?” asks Bickslow, reclining in the hot springs in just his boxers. Damn, I always forget the pack swimsuits, don’t I?  
“Looks familiar. We’re not in Fiore anymore, are we?” Decimus says, sipping lightly on a sugary fruit drink. Surprisingly, he managed to fit everything into the pack he brought me from the kitchen.  
“No, we’re not. We’re in the old province of Black Marsh, high enough in the mountains of the border of Morrowind that there are hot springs all around. This one is encased and enclosed entirely underground, making it incredibly difficult to get to and exceedingly harder to get out of. The only way I got in was punching through the ceiling when a dragon hit me through it.” I sip calmly at my own drink, although Bickslow insisted upon putting some of his blood in there. I must admit, it tastes better.  
“So, we’re not in Fiore.”  
I splash water at my Mate, and it hits him, blubbering a bit before sending a wave back at me with his babies.  
“That was uncalled for!” shouts Decimus, getting caught in the crossfire. He leaps at him, and I get a glimpse at the friendship that blossoms between boys. I wonder if Decimus packed some alcohol. No, no, that’s a bad idea.  
I chuckle, looking at the boys before getting out quickly and walking to a different pool. I sigh in contentment; these caverns are really the only place I can relax.  
I pat my stomach, thinking about what will happen to us now. Our Family has several branches, but the with the main one destroyed, I don’t know what will happen, truthfully.  
The cavern belches steam, making it into a sauna as well. With some new abilities I’ve found, I’ve been able to tell heat more evenly. It’s something that I’ve never quite been good at, but with this…. child…. in me, now, I think it’s important. Or something like that.  
My hand slaps against the surface of the water, and I find the sound of it to alleviate some of the stress this is piling on.  
Sometimes, I wonder, if it wouldn’t be easier to retire from being Listener. It’s a hectic life, but it’s the one that I was destined for. I am living my destiny.  
I sigh, though, thinking about anything else. I could have had a legitimate guild, a normal life, going on quests and jobs and everything that’s happening in the world, I would be a part of, publicly.  
But, then again, I wouldn’t have made the choices I had. I wouldn’t be here, if not for the Brotherhood, and my Family. I wouldn’t have become a vampire, and I would have died as swiftly as I had lived. With them, I had a purpose beyond just doing something because I was needed to.  
I close my eyes, trying to calm myself and the child within me.  
Oh, yes, Serana. I need to talk to her.  
Now. Letters can’t do it.  
Now, by now now.  
I smile, calling out the words to the teleportation that I use for her. Of course, it’s only a theory, and supposed to transport only one person to my location.  
So, you can imagine my surprise when two people show up, and one of whom I don’t want to see. A very annoying Dark Elf named Neloth.  
I groan. Not going to be fun, is it.

“Why did you bring us here, Listener? I mean, this is flattering and all, but I am devoted to my research, and I am thoroughly enjoying it without such frivolous activities such as what you are insinuating distracting me.” says Neloth in two breaths. I still don’t know how he does that. Maybe long practice.  
“Shut up, you overreaching Telvanni Wizard who doesn’t know anything regarding decent house manners!” shrieks Serana, glaring furiously at the man.  
Their noise is deafening, and I close my eyes, rubbing my temple with my free hand. I’m considering using either Bend Will, or a calm spell. Neither of which might work. They have actually, now, attracted Bickslow and Decimus over, calming down from their water fight. My apprentice slips into the pool, next to me, and Decimus crouches down next to the water, glaring at the two with a protective ferocity that I haven’t seen in a while, and certainly not from him. His glasses glare slightly, and his dark hair falls over his eyes, making him, even though he’s in a speedo, he’s quite a startling figure. His nickname around the family is the Shadow King.  
“Will you two shut up?” he says, startling the two of them. He’s scary without anything else, and coupled with the knowledge of how to kill a man in thirty two different ways in ten seconds, right from where he is, he’s downright terrifying.  
They obey unquestioningly, and I sigh a bit, laying my head on Bickslow’s shoulder. His presence is calming me, and soothing any stomach pains I might have at the moment.  
“Thank you. Now, why are you here, Neloth?” I ask, not moving from my position, my hand dangling my glass.  
“I don’t know, Listener, you were the one who dragged me out here. Did you miss me, is that what this is about?” Neloth snarkily replies.  
“What she means is, what were you doing with me, Neloth.” sighs Serana, her arms crossing familiarly, like she did when I first ran with her.  
“What? Oh, well then, I was looking for you. You haven’t called on me in a very long time, and I have research that I need you to be the test dummy on.”  
“Why doesn’t he just test it on willing subjects?” asks Bickslow, whispering to Decimus. He shrugs in reply, and both turn to me.  
“I do have some sense of honor; I won’t let him practice on anyone but me, because his spells are highly experimental and shouldn’t be used on people without a viable cause or reason. Magic is especially dangerous to people without it as well. I then take them and use them on other people who are usually criminals, bandits, soon to be executed, the like.” I say to them, not above a whisper. Neloth and Serana are arguing quietly again, and I don’t know how they expect me to stand it. Calmly, I sip my drink and clear my throat.  
“Serana, I’ll talk with you later.” I glare at her, knowing that she probably forgot to tell me about this exciting new aspect of my life, and my Mate’s.  
Her eyes widen, and she looks away.  
“Well, as cheerful as this has been, I’ve got spells to test. Listener, if you would, please.” he readies a spell, not even noticing I’m not moving.  
I make no motion other than to sip my drink. “No thank you, Neloth. I can’t.”  
He’s shocked, understandably. I’ve never said no to a new spell before.  
“But, Listener! I have forty-two new spells to try out on you, and I don’t know if they even work right! What are you waiting for?” he asks, questioning me.  
Sighing, I look at him. “That is something Serana will have to explain to me as well. You can know after I know all the details she has to tell me.”  
Visibly, Serana makes no movement, but I smile when I hear her heartbeat, usually a minute at most, speed up almost to two or three a minute.  
Wearing that same predatory smile, I get out of the water, hissing slightly at the loss of warmth, and walk towards her. My arm around her shoulders, she shudders almost imperceptibly, and I walk with her to a tent I set up with a wave of my hand.  
“Now, Serana…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (20)- Talos, for example. I didn't have any godly consequences, though, just his followers. If he's up there, he might have admired my guts. Or cursed me. I don't know anymore. Too complicated to explain in a simple footnote.


	19. Travelings and Revealings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows.

“Now, Serana, start to talk about this little predicament I find myself, and my Mate, in.” I say, once inside and sitting, simultaneously casting a soundproofing spell around us when we walked in.  
“Okay, for first off, I didn’t know this would happen to you. The only other recorded case is me, and I haven’t found a single person, or vampire, like me in all of recorded history and in life, or, well, undeath.” she starts off, and I’m somewhat impressed by her ability to say all this in one breath.  
“And what else do you have to say about this?” I ask, my head on my left hand being supported while my right rests on my knee, as I sit in lotus position.  
“The child will be predisposed to be a vampire, and other abilities may show themselves as soon as possible for talk, walking, or holding a blade or wielding a spell. They may not. This is an iffy idea, at best, and I only think it comes about like the wild wolves do.”  
“Okay, what?” I ask, looking at her. That last statement made no sense whatsoever.  
“The process- it’s kind of like an alpha male mating with an alpha female, in a wolf pack. They’re the only ones that mate, really, and it’s more like that than anything, I think. It’s of the entire vampiric world, so it would make sense that it would be me, because of my parents both being pure-blooded Volkihar vampires, and my father being a warlord. With you, I would have guessed this, but I had no more proof, besides myself. It’s a series of theories and guesswork, a combination of the two as well.” Serana finished her long speech, it somewhat making sense to me.  
“So, it’s more like a once in a lifetime opportunity, or something like that?”  
She sighs. “No. It’s the most powerful mates getting together and having a baby, who will be powerful as well, maybe even equating, or negating, the powers of the parents. It’s hard to tell, with only one person living like this. You don’t actually have to do anything with the Mate; just finding the Mate and being around them for a continuous amount of time with strong feelings can make it happen. Magic, too, influences the formation of the baby.”  
I nod, getting this a bit better than before. “Now, why didn’t you tell me this- it- before?”  
“I didn’t know for sure, and I realize it’s stupid, but there are several powerful vampires out there, still waiting, like you were, to find their mate. It would’ve been stupid of me to tell you about something and then not have it come to pass, don’t you believe that as well?” she says, sighing ever so slightly.  
“That is true, but seriously Serana. That would have been helpful, even if it hadn’t happened. If it hadn’t, would you have told me about it?” I ask my friend, looking at her quizzically.  
“The child? I don’t know, actually. Probably not.”  
I roll my eyes at her. “And yet you know that I love to know everything I possibly can.”  
She sheepishly smiles, then looks around. “The boys might be fighting.”  
“You wish to bet?” I ask her, smirking.

We exit the tent, looking around for any destruction and carnage that may have occurred during our talk. Instead, we find Decimus sitting on the ground, his feet dangling in a pool of hot water, checking his guns.  
“Uh….. Where did Neloth and Bickslow go?” I ask my Brother, looking at him suspiciously and sniffing the air to see if there’s any blood being spilt, or has been already.  
“They went off to go berry picking, I don’t know.” says Decimus, peering through the scope.  
I sigh in utter annoyance, and levitate out of his hands his gun so I can push him in without damaging the thing. He falls in with a cry of protest, and Serana and I giggle.  
“Would you stop doing stuff like that?” He cries out, and I can’t stop laughing.  
“No, you’re too adorable when you’re flustered and angry. If you want us to stop, go find a person who will do it to you out of love!” Serana states, and Decimus flushes from more than the heat of the springs, mumbling something about it interfering with his work.  
Eventually, I stop laughing with Serana, and set out to find my Mate and my annoying researcher that I turned into a vampire for no good reason. Seriously, what was I thinking? I doubt I was in any way. It’s quite possible that Sheogorath entered my mind for a few moments and left me addled. Or something like that.  
Of course, just after that happens, we hear a rather large crash and immediately, I run over to it, coughing slightly over the dust.  
“And that, smartass, is how you take someone down like a god damn man.” I hear a familiar voice say, and breath a sigh of relief. It’s Bickslow, being supported on two of his dolls, suspended in the air, while the rest hover in Baryon Formation near Neloth, who’s coughing in the rubble on the opposite end of the cavern. I can hear him grumbling about it, but I just smile and look at my apprentice.  
“Good job, beating up Neloth. It’s not often enough that that occurs. One can only stand so much ego before it needs to just die. Preferably when it’s being beaten out of him forcibly with as much pain inflicted on him as possible.” I state, looking over the scene.  
“So you’ve felt that urge too, huh?” asks Serana, looking at us. “Last time I was with him, I wanted to tear out his spine because he kept calling me a ‘stupid girl.’”  
“And then we trapped him in his own tower. That was fun.” I say, laughing at the memory.  
“Nothing is ever as fun as messing with people like that.” Bickslow joins in, and we nod.  
“So, are you guys down with your secret talk?” questions Bickslow, sticking his tongue out and slinging his arm around my shoulder.  
“Yes, we’re done talking, so you can go hang out with Decimus and we can have yet another water fight and watch Neloth try to rope Decimus into being a test subject. Why not?” I state, grabbing both their hands and leading them to the springs and the water.  
It’s a fun time to be here when you have friends. I’ve forgotten that.

Maybe because I don’t have a lot of friends, I realize, as I’m sitting in the water now, looking at the people across from me having a water fight. Bickslow and Neloth seem to be in a rivalry of some sort, and Serana is talking with Decimus. I’m just enjoying the water and the warmth.  
My friends, all through the years, have left me, because of some reason or another. The Companions, they died sooner than you would think, being such adept and long-lasting warriors. The Thieves Guild, they forgot me and all we stood for, a comradery of scoundrels and criminals, just trying to live without killing anyone we didn’t have to. The College of Winterhold, eventually, they turned their backs on me and my ideals in the name of garnering power, to hold dominion over the land and all it’s inhabitants, so they would be more powerful than the Empire, or it’s rulers. The Legion became a corrupt and dying enterprise, preying on the weak targets and robbing mere citizens before dumping their corpses into ditches and lakes, not even reporting anything going wrong in their own ranks. Even the Blades, they betrayed me, by not doing as they were ordered and obeying the Dragonborn, wishing I would kill my teacher, my mentor, when it’s something I could never, ever do.  
Why does the world shape such people in such ways that make them go from good to bad? So easily? So quickly? (21)  
Why do organizations do that so swiftly? Is it because they are merely heading the way nature carved for them, or the way that human nature is?  
What is, really, the family that I have?  
A twinge in my stomach reminds me of that fact, and Bickslow’s water fight finishes itself up with his puppets hovering menacingly around Neloth so he backs down. My Mate comes over, joining me on my side of the fairly large pool we’re in, and nudging me to make me smile.  
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” he asks, slipping in beside me and giving me a hug. Gradually, we’ve become more affectionate, or at least, he has.  
“Life.” I smile at him, leaning my head on him. “Memories. People. Stuff like that. Friends.”  
“Well, I’m your friend, were you thinking about me?” he asks, tongue lolling out as per usual.  
I chuckle lightly, looking at him. “And if I told you I was?”  
“Well, I’d have to do something drastic, I suppose. Perhaps propose marriage on the spot.”  
“You don’t have an amulet of Mara, or a ring of any kind though. That’s about the number one requirement for a proposal.” I state, looking at him cynically.  
“So?” he asks, looking at me. “This matters because? We’re Mates, right? Why does that need to even happen?”  
“Do I look like I know? Weird stuff happens around me. I almost killed the world because of an artifact I found in a ruin that was thousands of years old. See what I mean?”  
He smiles. “I do see that, because this is pretty flipping strange as is, but that is just weird.”  
“No kidding. It was called the Eye of Magnus for some reason, too. I didn’t name it, so don’t look at me.”  
“I don’t want to look at anybody else, though.” Bickslow says, and I laugh, punching him lightly on the shoulder.  
“Good to know you don’t have any of that wandering eye syndrome I’ve heard is so common these days.” I say, looking at my Mate and resisting the urge to do something like a purr.  
I should ask Durnehviir about this stuff. I know that dragons roar and purr, but it’s weird circumstances. Then again, a death battle is a debate, so….. Dragon logic. Totally makes sense.  
“With you? I’d have to be crazy. Even crazier than you could ever be.” he says, looking me in the eyes.  
I smile again, and rest my head against his chest, sinking lower in the water. “I should really come here more often. We’ll leave tomorrow, though.”  
“Why?” my apprentice asks, looking around the caverns in wonder. “It’s so nice down here.”  
“It is, but that’s also why we have to leave it. It’s perfectly enclosed, so no one can get in without us noticing, but the bad part about that is that there’s not enough oxygen for sufficient stay down here with a bunch of people, like now, and we would only see them when they really broke through. Also, they could eventually trace my magical signature here, especially if they knew where the last person to use it was, which won’t be that hard, as Serana came to the Sanctuary multiple times over the years. He’d go for her even if he didn’t know that I transported her here.”  
I finish my statements with a breath, already feeling the whole roomful of oxygen supply being taken down a notch. Of course, we’ll eventually fall asleep, and only the non-humans will watch so we don’t have to use as much, and we won’t really feel it. For the most part. At least, I won’t really. Too many late nights in a row, on the road. I’m used to it.  
Another surge of pain from my belly reminds me that it’s probably not the best idea ever though, and it won’t stop now, continuing to hurt me until it gets what it wants, which I no longer know what it is.  
He laughs, and pulls me into his lap, so that we’re both facing the same way, but I’m inside his legs.  
“It’s like you, Neloth is.” he whispers in my ear, leaning over my neck.  
“You mean his ferocity or his impertinence?” I joke, and he laughs again, letting me go so that he could chase me around in the water.  
It’s been a very long time since I’ve relaxed like this in the presence of another person.  
I never thought having a Mate would be so amazing. Of course, it’s probably just my Mate that’s so fantastic.

With Neloth and Serana keeping themselves up anyway with their arguments, I set them to watch duty, letting the ones who need rest sleep, with Bickslow and Decimus in one tent, me in the other, writing in my journal in Daedric runes as per usual.  
The new notes are mainly my thoughts about transportation and new places to base our Family. Places in Corsinthe, Cheydinhal, and Chorrol are operating, as well as the Dawnstar and Falkreath Sanctuaries in Keizaal. I’ve expanded quite a bit, so that almost every city in the large landmass of Tamriel has a Sanctuary, and any Family member can get in with their handprint.  
I perk up, upon remembering that. I bring out the Night Mother’s coffin, as this needs to be dealt with at once.  
“Night Mother, I must speak to you about Aventus.” I whisper to her, and wait for her response.  
“Yes, your Brother that has let rage cloud his heart and coat his blade. He is waiting for you, Listener, and wants to kill you for letting his love die. It is a shame that Nelkir had to die, but it was the will of Sithis. Now, you must deal with him. Lead him into a trap, and seal him in. Creatures will not be able to stand up to him. Trick him into going to the Imperial City and participating in the Arena, where you will face him if the Grand Champion falls. It must be you, Listener, I fear he will not die by any other’s hands.” she says, her voice reaching my ears easily and as sweet as honey.  
“I know, dear Mother, but I must be assured that the rest of my Family is safe from his now traitorous hands. Remove his ability to access the rest of the Sanctuaries, please. The rest of your children here may depend upon this action being taken.” I implore the Unholy Matron of my organization.  
“Very well, child. You have served Sithis and the Black Hand faithfully, and your position and role in the past years has not been unobserved. Sithis gifted us with you, Listener, such a powerful and determined one, leading us to greatness. You shall not die soon, not with your Mate by your side, like Sithis was mine. No, dear child, I was not a vampire, like you, but we are bonded through the power of the Void, much like you and the rest of the Family with us, the spectra, and your Mother and Father. You will have many years, if you choose the right people to be in our Family.” she whispers to me, and it’s like a caress from her hand upon my cheek. Such encouragement from Mother is an honor that is not normally bestowed- so far it’s happened maybe three times, at most, when difficult times struck us hard and fast, with barely any room to breath between such blows.  
“Thank you, Night Mother. Are there any who have prayed to you, Unholy Matron?” I ask her, the stress of dealing with Aretino, my former Brother, melting away, at least somewhat. He may not harm the others while they are in their Sanctuaries.  
“There are several, and you must visit them quickly. On the landmass once known as Tamriel, word of our deeds is spreading, and the places have become fearful, the Dark Guilds angry at our presence here. The assassin’s guild Death’s Head is also becoming riled, and has received several requests to specifically kill the leader, whom they think is me, when it is really you. Their highest team will soon be sent after you, Listener, and I do not know if you will be able to fight them off in time to escape both them and your former Brother.” she speaks, and I nod.  
“Thank you, Mother. The names of those who wish of our services?” I question once more, and she responds happily.  
“I have heard a whisper from an old man named Tibentius in the province of Valenwood, new town of Oldsworth. Speak with him for his contract, and you might wish to attend to this one personally….”  
A few more names, a few more contracts, and the world will soon be ours to claim once more.  
“Sweet dreams, Night Mother.”  
“You have the blessing of Sithis, Listener. Do not waste it.”  
My dreams are safe from night terrors or mares, but still concern me greatly.  
There are more terrifying things out there than what I have faced, and there are lesser ones that are much more real.  
I do not know which ones I should be scared of anymore. I have long forgotten what fear feels like.  
Except when it comes to losing Bickslow.  
My Mate, my apprentice, and perhaps my life.  
A kick from my stomach assures me that even if he does die, I will have something that will help me continue along without him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare die on me, because if he does, I think he knows I would take revenge on anyone who even had something in the slightest to do with it.  
Love does strange things to us all.

Once the morning comes, as told by my internal clock and a charm that Neloth made, concerning the time, we rise, and I have to yell at almost everyone to get up except for Serana. Neloth fell asleep fairly easily, or at least, he seemed like it. Maybe he was trying to come to terms with the fact that I won’t be a test subject for him until… well, an undetermined time. I don’t know myself when it’ll be okay, but I’m not very eager for it to be over. Neloth’s experiments can be…. dangerous. Rather exceedingly so sometimes.  
Decimus, luckily, understands the need for urgency, and gets Bickslow up and away from the tent long enough for me to pack it away. The only hindrance is Neloth’s constant whining, and it’ll surely drive everyone insane.  
I know I’m almost at my limit and I’ve barely been around him for twenty four hours.  
“For the last time, Neloth, shut up. If I have to say it again, I will cast a Silence spell on you that extends from the first form to the twelfth. And I won’t give you any pain relievers.” I say, turning around to scold the magician for the umpteenth time.  
“I know the counterspell. You, however, do not.” He replies snarkily, and I’m so close to punching him I have to remind myself that I don’t want a pride-wounded researcher on my hands, with an ego that’s as large as any God.  
“Well, do you know any good ways to hurt someone while they’re unconscious? Because I know some great ones that won’t wake a person up.” I say, looking him in the eye and very consciously glaring. Sometimes this works. Not all the time, as nothing really works universally, but this works the most on Neloth. Especially when I mean it.  
Like now.  
“Okay, fine, Listener. I’ll be quiet. Not as if you simpletons have the brainpower to understand what I’d be talking about anyway.” he mutters, and Bickslow touches my shoulder, reminding me we are on the road and cannot take out the time to give Neloth first aid from my ultimate beat down of him, sadly.  
Decimus scoffs quietly, and Serana smirks, knowing that she has some knowledge of spells that would make Neloth lose his mind over how ancient they were. She’s shown me some of them. They’re bloodthirsty and almost as bad as me. Almost.  
“So, Listener, where are we going?” asks my apprentice, his hands behind his head and his tongue lolling out casually, keeping up with my pace.  
I turn to look at him without breaking stride, and smile slightly at his carefree attitude. “We’re going from where we teleported to, to the Imperial City that was the capital of the Empire of the Medes and the Septims, and many more than them. Those, however, were the ones that were important. Or at least, I met one of them, and the others only died out because of a huge crisis around Tamriel. There, we’ll wait for Aventus, and I’ll attempt to…. silence him.”  
“You mean kill him?” asks Bickslow, looking at the road ahead.  
I whisper, “Yes.”  
He doesn’t respond with anything but a nod, and I trudge on ahead, not knowing what else I can do at this point.  
Either I kill Aretino, or he kills me and my entire Family, everything I’ve lived for and love.  
I cannot let that happen, in any scenario.  
Traitors may abound aplenty, but they are not the people who make the most impact. It is the ones who repair the damage that win the battle for might and respect in the organizations.  
For years, it has been me. I have never regretted this position.  
But, what if it makes me lose my Mate?  
I surge onward, the road before me clear as day in the light of dawn. The sun on my skin doesn’t bother me anymore, and it has become something like death. It is not even a tragic end anymore; it is simply something that happens, and I happen to control it in other people. It has become as comforting as something as calming as a sweetroll for me. No moral implications other than the fact that they’re going to the Void, sent by me, for my Dread Father. No afterlife for them, when they’re killed by a Dark Brotherhood assassin.  
Do I wish that for my Mate?

The travel time takes a bit more than I anticipated, because apparently not everyone can run as much as I can and Neloth whines enough that, to shut him up, we take a break by a cheerful creek in the sunshine.  
Snacks and sweetrolls flow plentifully, and I have no objection to the break, as I’m feeling more and more tired from this trek and the stress of this situation. Bickslow’s quiet demeanour has not entirely made it easy, in any case.  
Of course, the world won’t protest my suffering by any account, no matter how many times I’ve saved it or done such feats that any other person would have died trying to even accomplish one task it took me to do so.  
No, all they would see is a monster, a murderer and a liar and a thief, who stole away a wizard from a prominent guild to use as her personal tool. Beneath my hood and cowl, as I’m wearing my Ancient Dark Brotherhood armor, I feel a tear start to form.  
I shove these feelings back down inside, burying them deep enough and then carting them off to a catapult, throwing them away from me.  
Other people do not get to judge me for my past; they can judge me for my actions, but not what I have done. Is not the Fairy Tail guild representing that to this day, accepting the Thunder God Tribe, Laxus, and the Phantom Lord people into their guild with open arms? Or at least, growing used to them and helping them along?  
Nothing shall stand in my way like they believe they shall do. I will accomplish what is my destiny, be it good, or bad, and anything and everything in between shall be mine. The world is mine to seize; all I must do is take it.  
A smirk on my lips and some feeling going back into my feet, I stand, motioning for the rest of them to do so too. “We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover before we can actually rest, and Neloth, if you so much as breathe a word of anything resembling a complaint, you will die with a arrow in your throat, courtesy of moi.”  
Serana smiles, accepting my hand and helping herself up. “That’s the Listener I know.”  
Decimus falls in line behind us, talking to Bickslow animatedly about something or other, perhaps magical theory, as Bickslow’s very well versed in that subject, more than my vague understanding about it. It’s only a new subject coming out, and not very easily studied.  
Neloth grumbles, far behind, and Serana and I share a knowing glance before giggling and starting off at an even pace, moving down a slight hill with a lively conversation between every member of our group but the downer at the back. Who knows, maybe he’ll summon a ghost to talk to, although they usually can’t remember what you say. What do you expect, they’re ghosts, not people. Just imprints of souls upon a mortal plane that can be called forth by a specific person. Or persons, depending upon who it is.  
“So, Serana, how is Urag?” I ask my friend, looking at her familiar face.  
“He’s good, a bit more so than usual, now that he’s in charge of an entire library. I took him there when he first heard about it, and he almost died of a heart attack, I swear. He was so excited he said he felt like a princess.” she chuckles at her statement, and I join her.  
“It’s so like him, it’s almost as if he’s right here, yelling at me for reading too loudly in his library in the College.” I reminisce, thinking about those days when that was something to worry about. No matter my position, he didn’t care. Every person just had to follow his rules, or it wouldn’t have ended pleasantly for anyone at all.  
“Remember the time that you thought that Urag needed to lighten up a bit, so you took him to the Sleeping Tree Camp full of Giants and their Mammoths?” she asks.  
My face turns red. “I didn’t have any Sap on me, what was I supposed to do? Just leave him hanging?”  
“That would have been the assured life safe route, but no, you had to go and endanger that!”  
“He’s a wizard, he could have handled them had I not been there!”  
“No, he could not!”  
“Aww, Serana, are you doubting the abilities of your Mate? I think you are.” I tease, looking at one of my closest friends blush and look away.  
“You know very well that he wouldn’t have even gone with you had I not been there.” she says, as if this helps her.  
I can’t help but laugh at her, and we continue like that for the rest of the way, until we stop and camp, at the end of the day, when everyone’s stomachs are rumbling and they insist that they cannot go without food for any longer. I give in solely because of Decimus’ puppy dog eyes; I admit it. He’s dangerously cute because of it. It’s almost not fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (21)- Relatively, of course. It was several centuries between each of these events previously stated occurred- there were rather serious repercussions of these falls.


	20. Messing with my Life seems Common

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Propane Nightmare by Pendulum.

“So, what’s the plan, besides that fact that we’re going to the Imperial City?” asks Neloth, around the campfire. They demanded one, so Neloth lit it with a Fireball. I banned him from using that spell to light fires again that way.  
“Shh.” I say, closing my eyes and whispering the word, “Lok.”  
I look around, and see a few more life signs than ours.  
“If you want to kill me, go ahead and try. You don’t have the element of surprise anymore.” I state, looking directly at them.  
“Listener, what…?” asks Bickslow, before the figures jump out into the firelight, allowing them to be seen by all of us.  
“We are Trinity Raven, and we are here to kill you, Listener.” says the woman, wielding a sword, still in its sheath.  
“Justice shall be brought upon you by our hands!” the man with the owl’s head declares, and I remember him from that folder Decimus prepared for me all those months ago. Interesting, that the people seem to be presenting themselves to me now. Fun. Much easier to recruit them than seeking them out.  
“We’ll show you the lowest pits of hell!” screams out the rocker, Vidaldus Taka. His hair seems to have grown back, at least somewhat. According to previous reports it had dropped off or something like that.  
“You have fun trying to do that.” I state, standing up and bringing out a Flame and Storm Atronach. “Let’s party.”  
The team just narrows their eyes and attacks me, Ikaruga and Vidaldus taking the Atronachs while Fukuro, one of their team that I want, comes straight at me, hooting like an owl, and using his rocket pack to fly fast enough that the people surrounding me can’t react in time.  
I’m shoved through branches and whole trees by the owl assassin, and my palms crackle to life, sending a steady stream of electricity into Fukuro’s entire system, making him let go.  
“Say, Fukuro, you’re quite the skilled assassin.” I say, once I’ve stopped skidding due to my hand being about elbow deep in the soil. Powerful.  
“That’s why the Death’s Head Caucus sent Trinity Raven! We’re the strongest team in our guild! And we’re here to bring justice to you!” he cries out, not moving, though.  
“And yet, you’re overshadowed by your team mates, who are less powerful than you. You went toe to toe with a Dragon Slayer, and an Ice Make Wizard almost at that same level, all in the Tower of Heaven.” I say, straightening my spine and standing up fully.  
“How do you know about such things?” he asks, and I smile.  
“I have my sources, and my sources are plentiful. Here, in my Family, we all profit, because people everywhere always want justice brought upon the ones who wronged them. Is that not so?” I state, looking at him quizzically. “You say you are a bringer of justice. If you are, truly, one, like me, you have a reason for coming here other than the fact that you were ordered to.”  
He pauses at that, and tilts his head to one side, truly like an owl. Is he thinking?  
“Don’t listen to her, Fukuro!” cries out Ikaruga. I roll my eyes to heaven, and sigh. So close, dammit. Oh well, maybe I can spin this in my favor.  
“Why, do you believe your team mate can’t handle the truth? You, Ikaruga, could not handle Erza Scarlet, while Fukuro here handled someone at her level and someone else, then flew you and the rocker, Vidaldus, off of the Tower of Heaven. It seems to me that he should be the one in charge, as he’s also covered for you two on multiple occasions due to your… incompetence.” I spike the last word with contempt, and scowl at her.  
“You do nothing but use him for his talent and skill, while any other person would give him the power and the recognition he deserves.” I continue, while she says nothing, but draws out her sword from its sheath.  
“If you speak more of your lies, I will execute you with extreme prejudice.” she states, glaring at me.  
“Try it on Fukuro. I bet you can’t hit him once with any of your skills working together or alone.” I cock my head to the right slightly, and motion towards him. “I’m sure he’d love assurance that I’m telling the truth with what I say.”  
“She is trying to trick you, Fukuro! We’re your team! We’ve been together for years. Do not let one person spoil it by trying to drive us apart. We are stronger than that!” she screams, beginning to get hysterical. I’ve told the truth, and that is what she fears. The stats do not lie. The truth does not lie by default.  
“Fukuro, how many times has she ordered you around, giving you the most dangerous task, while it seems she, as supposedly the most powerful in the group as the team leader, should be doing it instead of you?” I question, and Ikaruga lets out a roar, and dives at me.  
In between dodging the blade’s strikes, I glance at my target for my Family, and smirk under my mask. It would appear that it is working. Hopefully.  
A backflip and a handspring bring me out of her reach and foolishly into Fukuro’s, before I realize it. See, even I am capable of mistakes. Occasionally.  
“Hah! Fukuro, kill her!” she screams, her eyes wild with fury.  
The owl man seems to come to a conclusion, and turns to me. “Would you give me more power and more control?” he says to me, and I smile and nod my head.  
“Of course, Fukuro. You would be a gift to my organization in any way.”  
“That settles it.” he says, and turns to Ikaruga, leaping forward and swallowing her whole.  
“Absorption magic. Interesting. Never found it that pertinent myself, but perhaps it is more worthwhile than it seems. Should I go find your other team member?” I ask, looking at my newest recruit. His formerly rock-hard body and figure have deformed slightly, his stomach bulging out to identify the new mass of nutrients and magic energy that is Ikaruga. I didn’t realize this before, but this is technically cannibalism. (22)(23)  
He considers it. “It will take me ten minutes to digest a person with magic, and add it to my own. Vidaldus can wait a while. Who else is in your ‘Family,’ as you called it earlier?”  
“Erigor, former Death God of Eisenwald, and Decimus, one of the men you see out there, as well as many, many others. The others out there are contacts, and my apprentice, Bickslow.”  
“Aha, I have heard that a dark guild took a member of the Thunder Legion away from Fairy Tail. I had no idea it was you. If I had, I would not have bothered to even fight.” he states, looking down at me from his height. What is with people and their height here? It’s ridiculous.  
“So what is your name?” Fukuro asks, leaning over me to look straight down. Huh. Must be an owl thing.  
“I am called Listener, and I am the leader of the organization the Black Hand, or the Dark Brotherhood, as you may have heard us called. Our Family is comprised of the best hand-picked assassins in the world, and all of us are skilled in magic, weapons, or anything that can be used to kill someone. We are the shadows in the cities, and kill for those who pray to our Mother for a contract. Every person we kill has their soul sent to Sithis, and he is our Dread Father. Welcome, then, dear Brother, into the Family.” I say, smiling at the end and pulling out a lacrima.  
“You may contact me through this at any time, but it is only keyed for you, and for three times only. Fukuro, you must travel to the Sanctuary in Cheydinhal, and answer the question the door asks you in the basement of the abandoned house with the words, Sanguine, my brother. There you will be greeted by the person in charge of the Sanctuary, who will give you your assignments and promotions, along with gear, rewards, and bonuses.”  
“All this, why?” he asks, and I look him in the eye.  
“I have wanted you to be a part of the Black Hand for a very long time, Fukuro. Decimus actually clued me into your existence, as well as others that I still wish to investigate for it. Any people you meet in your travels like you, please tell me about, and more opportunities to dispense justice in the world may flow to you.” I speak, and he nods in understanding.  
“I shall see you later, then, Listener.” the owl man says simply, and takes flight with his jet pack, flying into the sky with a cry like an owl’s.  
“How interesting. I wonder where the last person of Trinity Raven is. Or, should I say, the former and now disbanded team of Trinity Raven.” I muse, almost skipping with delight over what has happened so quickly.

“Well, well, Vidaldus Taka, how odd of you to appear here. What did you think of your former teammates, Ikaruga and Fukuro?” I ask, smiling at my prey, in the middle of the forest. I know he can hear me, even if I am behind trees and everything.  
“Ikaruga? She’s alright, even if she is a bit uptight. But that body! And Fukuro’s the most powerful among us, although Ikaruga went after Titania Erza while Fukuro took on a Dragon Slayer and two more wizards.”  
“What did you do?” I question him, leaning against the tree more than a little now that he’s more relaxed.  
“I took on the rain woman and the blonde one with the rockin’ bod!” he screams out, and a blast of electric guitar reverberates through my head, making me clasp my ears in pain. Like most Dragon Slayers, my ears are sensitive, but more like an elf’s.  
“Where’s Death’s Head Caucus located?” I inquire, deciding to test the waters.  
“What do I get if I tell ya, huh? I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ if I don’t get something in return!”  
“What about a position, in my guild, with plenty of contracts, training, jewels and adventure, set for the rock and roll scene?” I say, rolling my eyes at the last part. Honestly, the lengths I’m going to.  
He pauses, then answers quieter. “My guild mates would come after me.”  
“If you tell me where the guild is located, I’ll send my top people and they’ll be dead almost instantaneously.” I answer easily, hoping that it’ll stop any more fighting, and, Sithis forbid, any more of that too loud noise.  
He answers, finally, and I breath a sigh of relief.  
“Very well, Vidaldus. I know that you were a very gifted assassin, and I think you did rather fine work as a member of Trinity Raven and Death’s Head Caucus. However, you can walk away right now and live a normal life, join a legal guild and everything, I’ll even pay your bounty. Or you can join my guild, and be a criminal, always working in the shadows of man.”  
I guess Vidaldus came to terms with it a while ago, and quite honestly, it’s surprising if an assassin in a dark guild has anything resembling loyalty. This is a dangerous business, and if you aren’t careful, another guild can kill you because of it. A dangerous life is often fraught with such perils, but it is the price of being a life-taker.  
Vidaldus Taka, forevermore, has my respect. He walks up to me, pushing away the bag of jewels I offer him, and sticks his hand out, to shake. Gladly, I do so.  
“Where do I go now?” he asks, holding his guitar with one hand.  
“Go west, to the ancient city of Corsinthe. A gatekeeper there will ask you, What is the true color of the dawn? You are to answer, Bloodmoon, my Brother. Inside there will be a person waiting for you, who will give you assignments, your armor, rewards and bonuses. However, Vidaldus, I expect to see your magical power and prowess grow over the next six months, but until then, you have my best wishes. This lacrima will call upon the nearest Brotherhood member as soon as you have on your armor, if you are in trouble.”  
He accepts the lacrima readily, shoulders his guitar, and walks away, trying to figure out what way is west of here.  
Serana sighs, and looks at me, coming out from behind another tree.. “Will you ever just accept that some people won’t rise to your expectations of them?”  
“I do not believe in that, Serana. Everyone, almost universally, loves a challenge. I did. You did. The Greybeards did, the Blades did, thieves did, murderers did, mages, warriors, and armies everywhere did, and do. There is nothing that can stop someone, if it is presented to them as a challenge.” I say, finally returning her gaze and turning back to the campsite.  
“Let us go. We have been kept away from our beds for long enough.”

“Who else will you be including in our newly expanding family, Listener?” asks Decimus, on watch with me. The rest of our fellows are sleeping, hopefully peacefully, in the tents in front of us.  
“Whoever might want to, and has the proper skills. I was thinking that Midnight, from the Oracion Seis, possibly Racer, and Cobra as well. The only problem with them, is they might wish to bring their friends within that guild with them. Angel and Brain will not do well in the business, whereas Midnight’s Reflector magic would make hard contracts much easier, and Racer could almost never be seen if he put his mind to it, and Cobra would be able to find his prey without even having to know what they look like. Their comrade Hot Eye would have done well, until Nirvana changed him into a good hearted human simply looking for wealth to search for his brother.”  
I say, and sigh. The people that I want to be in here might not care enough to do so.  
“Anyone else?” he questions again, and I can’t bring myself to smile and laugh like I would have.  
“The Iron Dragon Slayer would have made a fine assassin, or at least a contact. But no, he had to join Fairy Tail. The entire guild there is almost too good hearted to acknowledge something like us exists. Rogue from Saber Tooth would be fine as well, did you hear what happened at the Games there?”  
Decimus nods, and I sigh again, leaning back on my hands. “Sometimes, Decimus, I question whether or not I should lead the Black Hand. But, it is so interwoven with my entire being and self, that it’s almost not fair for me. I became a vampire so that the absence of a Listener and consequential loss of faith in the Dark Brotherhood would never happen again, and I’ve lived for years with that in mind, and my only goal being to further my Family’s standing and it’s roots in this place. Everything else, just, faded, and became background noise.”  
“Listener…” he begins, and trails off just as quickly.  
“I don’t ever know if what I’m doing is truly the right thing. Should I let Bickslow join, or never allow my Mate to see the beauty of what we do, if he chooses?” I say sadly, looking up at the stars.  
Decimus clears his throat. “Listener, I don’t think that you should doubt yourself like you are right now.”  
“Decimus, for the past thousand years all I’ve done is doubt myself. I have no example to live by, and only the Night Mother’s whispers to guide us by. It’s insane in itself that we follow a corpse of a woman who fell in love with a god, had his children, then killed them in his name, just because he asked her to do so.” I laugh, and with the laughter come the tears.  
“If you’ll excuse me, Decimus, I have to think this through.” I say, before he realizes what’s going on.  
Of course, I do believe my brother is much more intuitive than we’re led on.

I’m sitting down, leaning on a tree in a clearing I found easily, singing softly to myself.  
“Mind if I sit?” asks a voice, and I nod, not looking up.  
My apprentice slings an arm around my shoulders, and hugs me. “You said that you’d let me choose when I wanted to, about joining you and your Family and leaving Fairy Tail, or leaving you and rejoining Fairy Tail.”  
I nod, the song still running through my brain, but more subdued, as if it knew something I didn’t. Which is crazy, because we’re a part of the same being.  
“I think I’ve made up my mind.” he says, and I draw in a breath.  
“Really?” I say, barely making any sound whatsoever.  
“Yes, and no. It depends on you. Solely you. If you can make me stay, without any kind of magic or voodoo or anything like that, I’ll gladly join your Family and help you in any way I can. If you can’t convince me, then you’ll have to see me once a year and that’ll be it. No other contact, no more teaching, nothing like that. Got it?” he murmurs into my ear, and I almost Shout in frustration. He’s given me nothing concrete, and he expects me to thank him?  
“Of course I get it, that’s how it works in the first place. I’ve told you that before and you agreed to it. You’re parroting what I’ve said about this because Decimus told you too, because he thought it would make me feel better, didn’t he?” I say, standing up and turning around to face my Mate and apprentice.  
“Well…..”  
“Well nothing. That’s the truth, and I don’t know why you decided to make me more sad than I was in the first place.” I mumble, and walk away, looking for another place to sit quietly and muse over my thoughts.  
Nothing about himself, or his actions, or what I could teach him or show him, anything like that. Nothing even, about the child that I’m carrying because he’s my Mate.  
“Is this the Gods idea of revenge? Of a sick joke? If it is, just kill me already and be done with it.” I say under my breath to myself, and lean against a tree that’s near me.  
“Why am I so cursed with myself?” I ask, sliding down the tree, drawing my knees up to my chest and burying my face in my hands, almost like a small child, just cowering in the face of the world that’s too large and too horrible to confront without growing up first.  
My tears fall fast and free, unimpeded with any restraint I might have had before.  
This train of thought, however, is interrupted, when a person interrupts me, pulling me into their lap and just…. being there.  
I close my eyes, letting the tears spring forward, and soon I’ve cried a good deal more than I have in my entire life.  
“What was that song you were singing before?” asks Bickslow gently, rubbing my back.  
I draw in a breath, and let it out, taking the words out with it.  
“You are my sun shine,  
My only sun shine.  
You make me happy,  
When skies are gray.  
You’ll never know how,  
Just much I love you,  
So please don’t take,  
My sun shine away.”  
The song keeps continuing, and I simply let the words flow onward atop my breath, and soon enough, Bickslow holds me closer and I can feel his emotions shudder, at least a bit, before they’re closed off to me again.  
“You are my sun shine, Bickslow. Don’t you dare get away from me.” I say, hugging him closer now that I’ve turned to face him.  
“I won’t. I promise.” he replies, and we just sit there, hugging, until the sun starts to rise.  
Once it’s rays of light dip through ever so slowly, the two of us sit, not hugging, although I am in his lap.  
‘Nothing can make this bond break.’ I think, and I hope that I’m right, enough that I send a prayer to Sithis and hope that the Dread Lord has mercy upon us.  
Because any other god might not be feeling so generous.

Our troupe moves forward, once the others are awake. Decimus says nothing, and I am grateful, because Neloth would talk my ears off at once about Mates and the whole shebang about the entire business of being a Volkihar Vampire, and a Dragon Slayer.  
Nothing says we’re friends like the fact that I can’t stand him sometimes. Well, actually, a majority of the time.  
“Listener, how far must we travel now?” asks Neloth, the most annoying of our group bringing up a point that all of us, even I, am thinking.  
I shade my eyes from the sun, for the cowl, although it hides most of my face, it does not do anything for my eyes. “I’d say…. another ten minutes.”  
“What? You’re joking.” he says, then spins to look at Serana. “Is she joking?”  
She ignores him, brushing him aside, and walks up to me. From where I’m standing, at the top of the hill we’ve just climbed, it’s easy to see our destination.  
“Nope. It’s about ten minutes, kitty corner, if we run.” she says.  
I smile at my friend. “Exactly.”  
“Ugh. No, not running. Anything but that.” groans Neloth, and Bickslow guffaws while Decimus chortles.  
“Let’s go, then.” I say, and move forward, but Bickslow and Decimus decide to have a race, pulling out in front of the two of us, and laughing all the while, Bickslow with his tongue out and Decimus’ smile lighting up his eyes.  
“Let’s go at a more normal pace, then. Shall we?” I offer to Serana, and she grins at me.  
“Race ya.”  
Naturally, I cannot let that pass, and sprint to catch up with her, then sprinting faster than the two in front of us.  
“Keep up, boys!” We yell back at them, giggling.  
They try, but the two’s earlier sprinting and continuous pace has not done them any good. Neloth passes them, doing well for a wizard who doesn’t get out much.  
The three of us reach the city sooner than expected, only taking about seven minutes to get here from where we were, along the road.  
When the two slackers appear, their dispositions have soured slightly, and before I could really think about it, I walk over to Bickslow and give him a peck on his cheek, practically feeling his cheeks light on fire.  
“Welcome, my friends, to the Imperial City.”

The old city, home to the Septim bloodline and the Medes that followed, one of whom I killed, is one ancient in history and culture. Of course, most of it was lost years ago, when the genocide of races occurred do to the stupidity of Nords and their recklessness endangerment of the Redguards and Bretons.  
“So much lost…” I murmur underneath my breath, and the only one who hears anything at all is Bickslow, who’s right beside me. He looks at me funnily, and I shake my head. It isn’t something I want to get into right now. Especially since I do want it to be told, so I don’t plan on dying today. Or tomorrow. Or whenever Aretino shows up.  
Wow…. when did he become Aretino to me?  
I consider my options. Either I wait for him to show up here, or I contact him, endangering the rest of my comrades with me. Both ways may result in more bloodshed, not less.  
“Serana, find a hotel.” I say to the woman, and she nods, setting off, going into the old Talos Plaza district. I wish it was actually closer to the Arena, which is still largely in use, but the closer they are, the more danger they’re in.  
“The rest of you, come with me. We’ve got some shopping to do. Serana, contact me when you’re done, or when you hear anything.” I say, and she nods in reply. The team follows me, and I lead them straight through Green Emperor Way, my cloak billowing around me at the pace I’m going.  
Whatever shall I do with the traitor who was my Brother?  
Best to be prepared.  
“Neloth, go into the spell shops and try and find anything useful. Decimus, the armor and weapons, if you would, please. Bickslow, come with me.” I charge them with their tasks, and the two others scamper off. I don’t want to be away from my Mate when we haven’t been bonded for very long.  
“So, what are you going to do about this?” asks Bickslow, once we’re going into an apothecary, away from the others.  
“I’m going to trick him into dueling with me in the Arena. Once there, I’ll either kill him and it’ll end this, or he’ll kill me, and Serana will tell the guard that he did something horrible, like murder, or that he is what he is, and he’ll die by their hands. The watch here is incredibly good. Hello, I’d like to see your stock.” I say, first in an undertone to my apprentice, and the last sentence in a cheerful voice like I’m not a woman who may or may not only have hours left to live.  
The old woman in charge of the store gladly shows me everything she has for sale, and I buy it all, wanting to be prepared enough for anything that I might need.  
However, he is an assassin. Poison and food go well together in that world.  
“Where are we going next?” asks Bickslow, already learning from what I’ve shown him in the real world.  
“A grocer’s. I want fresh food for us all, and in case anything in the hotel we’ll be in is poisoned.” I say, and once a person passes me, I nudge him. “Hey. I’ll be alright.”  
“And if you die?”  
“Well, then, you’re free to go, aren’t you?” I say, trying to put on a brave face and failing, my voice cracking at the end. I don’t want him to go, if it’s me or him in any way.  
He pulls me into a hug once we’re out of the street area, and closer to the store.  
“You’ll be alright. You’re strong. You’re much stronger than he is.” he says, and his eyes shine slightly with unshed tears.  
My hand comes up, touching his cheek, and it’s almost a tender moment enough for us to kiss, when Neloth ruins it.  
Of course he does.  
“And what are you two doing on this fine evening in this dark corner of the market place?” he asks, grinning like a maniac.  
“Shut up, Neloth, or I’ll take your voice away from you for a week again.”  
“You’ve done that before?” asks Bickslow, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. I’m suddenly aware of my closeness with him, and I back away a bit.  
“Of course I have. He’s too annoying to have a voice all the Sithis damned time.” I glare at the annoying personage in question, opening the door to the grocer’s and stepping inside in a fluid motion, my apprentice following me.  
“I’d love to see what you have here.” I smile, charming the person in the room instantly.  
Once I exit the building, I see Serana, Decimus, and Neloth all looking expectantly at me.  
“What?”  
“Oh, nothing. Damn.” says Neloth, and I send a mild spark his way, causing him to jump a foot at least, while the rest of us chuckle at his reaction.  
“So, Serana, did you get the rooms?” I ask, looking at one of my closest friends, both physically and on a scale.  
“I did, although it’s only three, two of them two person. We’ll have to buddy up, except for one of us.”  
Decimus and Neloth link arms, beaming at both me and Bickslow, trying to look innocent.  
“Of course.” I mutter, and Serana’s grin widens.  
“I’ll be taking the single room, of course.” she says, and she winks at me.  
I just shake my head, and say, “Which place is it at?”  
“This way.” she leads the way to the inn we’re going to stay at, and she’s got a cocky spin on her walk.  
Damn these scheming friends of mine.  
These wonderful, rather terrible, friends of mine.  
Damn. I should just get a better way to deal with people than being all buddy buddy with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (22)- He could definitely earn a place at Namira's table for this.  
> (23)- Actually, there's nothing technical about this. It is cannibalism. A magic that encourages practicing cannibalism. Huh.


	21. Someone Out There Hates Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert it's you who hates me.  
> Chapter's song is The Mighty Fall by Fall Out Boy.

Of course this happens. Whatever else would ever need to occur for such a thing to transpire, it does. Always.  
Decimus and Serana are nudging the two of us with smirks and playful glances. I really should have taken the single, but this actually makes more sense.  
Until I have to enact my plan, that is. I’m not happy about that, but I’ll do it.  
Luckily enough, the Arena is open during the night for late night entertainment, and new contestants can enter it much more easily if they’re just looking for something to do, without necessarily getting killed. New restrictions are in place for these contests, and one of them is the battlers have to both agree to not sue the Imperial City, by their families, if they lose, or if they win. This is only in cases of to the death battles, although I know legal would advise them to make anyone sign those as the fear of being maimed is very much alive and in this particular branch of humanity, quite common.  
“So, do you have any special plans for tonight?” I hear Decimus ask Bickslow, to which he responds with his old fire, tongue sticking out and a hint of a smirk evident on his face.  
“Not if you don’t with Neloth.”  
Decimus goes bright red, and I chuckle as Bickslow just laughs out loud.  
Serana just rolls her eyes, but there’s a slight coughing sound, and I know it reached her ears. Decimus is simply too cute to not be picked on like that, especially with my apprentice on the beat.  
“Here we are, the Septim hotel.” says Serana, and I frown at the change of the name. Of course, only Neloth would remember this of our group, what it was named after, besides me, but he was also locked up in his lab for ages, so that’s not so hard to believe either.  
“Well then, Decimus and Neloth will be on the second floor, in the third room on the right, and I’ll be in the room next to theirs. You two, give the receptionist this note.” she hands me a small note, folded in half, winking. I hear a chuckle from her, and I shoot a sharp glare in her direction. Nevertheless, I take the paper, and walk up to the man at the desk, handing the note to him. Immediately he adopts a smirk, handing me a key. “Top floor.”  
“What room?” I ask, looking at him.  
“There’s only one room up there.” he replies, turning back to his papers.  
I sigh, and beckon Bickslow to follow me, which he does.  
“So what room do we have?” he inquires, and I just sigh again, not answering his question till we’re past the second floor and climbing still.  
“The honeymoon suite…” I growl out, and if Serana was here she would’ve burst into flames.  
He laughs and I just walk up to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside the huge room.  
“Of course…” I mutter, and he bursts into the room behind me.  
“Wow.” he says, and I don’t even do anything in response, just dropping my bag and collapsing on the couch. It’s supposed to be a sickeningly bright shade of pink for lovebirds, but it’s more like a bright flag for me to kill Serana. It’s tempting, I’ll give it that.  
“Why is it so pink?” he asks, picking up a stupidly shaped pillow, red and shaped like a heart.  
“I don’t really know.”  
“Something you don’t know? Impossible!” he gasps, mockingly.  
“Shut up.” I say, throwing a pillow at him. He replies in kind, and soon we have an all out pillow fight, with pillows being destroyed and feathers flying everywhere.  
It ends when he trips me, and I fall onto him, both of us landing on the bed.  
“Why, Listener, I had no idea you had such feelings!” he laughs, and I roll off him, pushing him off the bed when I’m clear.  
“In your dreams.” I say, burying my face in the comfortable bed.  
He mutters something, and I don’t catch it. I also don’t care enough to really say anything about it, I’m much too tired.  
“Food?” he says, jumping on the bed and I hear a hopeful note in his voice.  
I turn my face to look at him, and just look for a while, absorbing his features and seeing his personality through them.  
“There’s some in my bag.” I say, flopping over ungracefully and trying to not give away my plans.  
He nods, hopping off the bed and walking over to my bag and picking it up, rummaging through it, not easily. It’s chock full of stuff. I’m a master at making everything fit in it, over years of practice.  
“Listener?” he asks, and I hum in response.  
“Why is your armor in here, with your Gate Keys, puppets, and weapons?” he continues, and I don’t give a reaction, just sitting up and looking at him with one eyebrow raised.  
“I’m not allowed to carry around the things that are precious to me?”  
“You don’t carry me.” he says, and I reply.  
“You’re too big to carry like a bag, Bickslow.” And flop back down to where I was before.  
He laughs, and moves over to a sitting area where a table is.  
I would give almost anything to have this moment last forever.  
But, one of the laws of the universe is that Time flows ever onward.  
I simply watch as my apprentice wolfs down his meal, going over my plan in my head quickly.  
This is going to be a hell of a night.  
Not in a good way.

Bickslow’s asleep, and he insisted that he wouldn’t take a couch, and said I couldn’t either, so we’re in the same bed, although this isn’t much of a surprising occurrence, due to the fact that he often falls asleep in my bedroom reading.  
I lie in the bed, just watching him, for a while. He’s breathing evenly, in and out, regularly, and it almost pains me to know that these things are something I might never see again.  
Slowly, I get up, taking my pack with me, changing into my armor. Ebony Mail, Konahrik, Ancient gloves and boots. My Keys are in my gauntlets, taking up a magical compartment woven into them. A sword hangs at my belt, a shield on my arm, and my mask in place over my face.  
I open the door, taking one more look at Bickslow, before closing the door behind me.  
This might be the last goodbye between us, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it right. I can make it less painful, though, in the only way I know how. By slipping away.  
Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I do. Maybe this is a mad plan that shouldn’t be in existence, but it is.  
I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore. I wasn’t sure in the first place.

Aretino is already in the arena, waiting for me. It’s closed, for a private match, as it usually is for training recruits. However, this is much different.  
Puppets swarm around me, six of them, and their demeanour is sad, like my own.  
“So, you decided to finally show up, did you?” he asks, standing away from me.  
“Don’t make me do this, Aventus.” I say, regretful of what I must do.  
“You killed my love. I’ll kill you.” he cries, turning around and releasing an attack. Aventus uses requip magic, and he’s powerful under normal circumstances, but with fury and grief and rage driving his heart, it’s going to be extremely difficult, to tell the truth.  
I barely dodge his swords appearing at his sides with such speed I think he might be taking a magical enhancer.  
“You killed Nelkir.” he says shakily, lifting his assault for a moment. I’ve been hit several times, and it’s worrying me.  
“Nelkir wouldn’t want you to do this, Aventus.” I say, and his fury is resparked. Damn.  
“You don’t get to say his name!” another surge of power flows through him, and I have to use Reflector magic to avoid them all.  
“No. Nelkir knew the risks. You did too. Yet you joined the Brotherhood, you joined our Family. YOU DON’T GET TO CALL YOURSELF MY BROTHER ANYMORE, ARETINO. YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE BLACK HAND AS OF RIGHT NOW.” I yell out, and launch my attack, sending a huge bolt of lightning his way, summoning out Libra and Capricorn to take him down. Both obey my will without question, and pummel the man with magical output.  
Surprisingly enough, he’s still standing when their assault is finished. Libra and Capricorn work well together, almost like they’re in total synch.  
I feel a surge of energy, and force their gates closed, not wishing them to get hurt.  
I’m right, and he zooms up to me, punching me down, slicing through my armor easily. I gasp, feeling blood starting to trickle down and leaving me feeling weakened.  
Aretino laughs, like a madman, and readies his blade for the final blow, so he thinks. With his pause, though, I bring up my shield, Spellbreaker, and the blow makes me grit my teeth, it’s so forceful.  
I manage to throw him off, rolling to the side and onto my feet, unsheathing my own sword and getting into my element. I’ve been doing this before he was born.  
“Listener! Have you no shame? Sit down and die to pay for your sins!” he cries out, and I see, glimmering faintly in the moonlight, tear tracks.  
“My sins? I have never attempted to kill my superior! I am not a traitor! You will be the one to suffer in the Void with the traitors of old who died like you shall, without honor and without mercy!” I reply, my eyes sparking under my mask, magical energy building up.  
He narrows his eyes, and charges me. I run to meet him, bringing up my shield and bashing him with it to interrupt him, making him stagger. While he’s dazed, I sweep his feet out from under him with my own, and hold my sword to his throat.  
“It’s over.” I say, glaring pure hatred underneath my mask.  
He laughs again, bringing his feet up and using the same move to make me drop to the floor. I let out a squeak of surprise, and he’s on top of me, straddling me, smiling down, raising his sword. His whole body shakes with the laughter of a madman, and I’m shuddering with terror at the feeling of the fact that I might be dead in five seconds at the hands of a traitor.  
Just then, though, Aretino’s hit off of me with a green blast, and my head whips around to see my Mate, Bickslow, appear through the darkness with a serious look on his face and his arms crossed in front of his chest.  
“Nobody. Messes. With my Mate.” he says, and I smile with relief, getting up slower, wincing at my wound. I nod my thanks to him, and he nods slightly back.  
I turn to where Aretino should be, and find him sobbing his heart out, yelling out Nelkir’s name in agony.  
He picks up his sword again, summoning fifty others, hovering around him, which launch in the general direction we’re in.  
“DIE!” he screams out, and he charges with the swords, looking at me with bloodlust in his eyes.  
I ready a spell, releasing it and feeling it take hold. The entire place freezes, a blizzard taking hold of the arena and turning practically every surface into ice.  
The swords flash freeze, and I blast them with Chain Lightning, breaking them apart. Next, I find my apprentice, and cover him with my cloak, feeling the frost freeze it in place with a vengeance.  
“Listener…” he croaks out, looking at me with his green eyes glowing. I shush him, focusing on the battle with my former Brother.  
The spell ends, the blizzard dispersing, and I feel Aretino’s anger.  
“Second Origin!” he calls out, and I curse, bursting out from the shelter my cloak made and dragging Bickslow with me, watching the deranged attacker slam into the ground where we just were mere seconds ago.  
A smile is plastered on his face that reminds me of a maniac, and not in a good way.  
“You won’t let me get my revenge. I’ll kill you, and your Mate too.” he says, and I’m freaked out now, looking at my former Brother with a plan that he must think is solid as metal.  
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” I say, pulling up a power that I have never used in my entire life.  
“Summon Karstaag.” I speak, and the deceased Frost Giant hears me, materializing and making the earth feel like it’s trembling.  
Accompanying the spectral appearance towering over all of us in the arena, two Ice Wraiths dart between and about his legs the entire time he’s here.  
“How long will it last?” Bickslow asks, gazing at the colossal figure in front of us, swiping at Aretino’s body, contacting at least a few times, the Ice Wraiths causing more damage to him by freezing him to his core, practically.  
“120 seconds. I can summon him two more times, but I don’t wish to.” I say, looking at the giant myself.  
“Why not?” my apprentice shifts his eyes to look at me, and I glance at him, back to the giant.  
“Because, even though he’s not as strong as he was when I fought him, I doubt anyone can survive him for long.”  
“Wait, you mean to kill him?” Bickslow states, his eyes wide.  
“I don’t want to, but I must. He has betrayed the Black Hand in assaulting the Listener.” I say, drawing out my blade, before reconsidering and drawing out the Blade of Woe.  
“You can’t be serious.” he says, catching my arm as I walk calmly towards my former Brother.  
I look at my Mate, and take it in. “I’m sorry you have to see this, and this side of me, but it is who I am. My Family is the one thing that has stood by my side this entire time.”  
“There has to be another way!” he cries, glancing at the terrified figure opposite us, not even moving anymore, frozen to the core.  
“There is none.” I hiss, and break off his hold, advancing swiftly towards the man that idolized me because I killed Grelod the Kind.  
Kneeling beside him, I touch his cheek, whispering softly that I’m sorry it had to end this way.  
Of course, my hand goes right through him.  
“An illusion….” I mumble, and I stagger back, looking around.  
Aretino’s sword is standing out of my Mate’s stomach, and I scream. His assailant’s face appears over his shoulder, letting my apprentice to fall down, shock evident in his expression.  
“We’re both out a partner, aren’t we?” he says, and I don’t even wait for him to draw a sword or a spell, just leaping at him, my restraints limiting the magic output I can create to keep a safe environment around me breaking as easily as I broke Aretino, slamming him back into the wall, hearing a sickening crack and confirming that he was knocked out, for now.  
I hurry to Bickslow, pulling the sword out of his back and turning him over to look at his face.  
He coughs a bit, and smiles, sticking out his tongue.  
“You warned me that being around you was dangerous at some point, didn’t you?” he asks, and I pull off my mask, Konahrik, looking at him with clear eyes, and for the first time, I believe, he’s seeing what I really look like.  
“You…. you have red eyes……” he says, looking into them, as I search his face for anything.  
“I do.” I reply, and consider something.  
“Just….. just like……. me…” he continues, and I look at him with tears on my cheeks.  
“I can bite you.” I say, praying to Sithis that he’ll accept it.  
“Whatever….. you think…. is best…. Listener…” he coughs some more, blood this time. His eyes still hold a twinkle of his insane laughter in them, as if he thinks his death will be the greatest amusement. He closes his eyes, and I hear his heartbeat slow to almost imperceptible levels.  
“Bickslow?” I ask, looking at my Mate.  
“BICKSLOW!” I scream out, and bite down on his neck, drawing out the blood with my fangs and slashing my wrist at the same time, so much that I feel it nick my muscles, forcing it to his mouth and getting some in him.  
I let go of his neck, his sweet blood spattered on my face, and I wait in agony over what’s happening.  
Nothing.  
At all.  
I hear Aventus laughing behind me, and I whip around, glaring at him in a way that describes pure hate and fury.  
“You know how it feels now, don’t you, Listener?” he spits out the name, and I Shout, sending him sprawling back, before I’ve paralyzed him with a spell.  
With fire and fury in my eyes, I walk towards him, my blade in my fingers, twirling rapidly, grinning like a madman. I feel mad, right now. Like a proper mad god's champion.  
“You should have known better than to try and harm my family, Aventus. I raised you from nothing, gave you everything, and you spit in it like it’s poison. Now, now, you do know better than to mess with the Champion of all 16 Daedric Princes, Nightingale, Listener, and Dragonborn. I will make sure that your last few minutes are the worst in your entire life, and then, I will finally kill you, sending your soul to the Void and I will relish the fact that you will be hurt and wounded like Mathieu Bellamont, and every last traitor in the history of the Black Hand.” I say, walking towards him, before sitting next to him, driving the blade in between his joints in his hand, tearing off the digits ever so slowly, snapping the tendons and enjoying his blood gushing over my hands, so much so that I take off my gloves, the sharp tips of my fingernails, black as night, showing off a bit of the dragon in me. I rake them down his entire arm, slicing open his armor and making him scream.  
I move to his other arm, giving it the same treatment, before going to his legs and skinning his thighs and calves, then cutting them off sharply and giggling. I feel…. so…. detached, from the world.  
My knife dances across his torso, slicing his armor apart, moving to his face every so often, taking an ear, or his nose, maybe his eyes as well. I don’t notice anymore, and instead focus on killing him.  
Finally, I succeed in ripping his heart out with my bare hands, and shoving it into his throat, while watching the light in his eyes die.  
I stand up, swaying a little, and look around, seeing the rest of our team get here.  
Serana takes one look with a sweep of her eyes, and rushes towards me.  
The blade of Woe drops from my hand, and I brush off her hug in favor of staggering over to the body of my Mate, still lying there, his own blood spattered everywhere on the scene.  
“We’ve got her, guys, she’s right over here!” I hear shouts of encouragement, and I realize it’s the Fairy Tail guild, with many more members, so I figure they’ve called in some favors of their own.  
I don’t have the strength to fight them. It’s gone. All gone now.  
I hug my Mate close to my chest, cradling his body. Decimus is beside me, and I turn my head slightly to him, and whisper, “Burn the traitor.”  
He nods, not saying anything, and murmurs in Neloth’s ear, Serana simply moving off from where she was by Aretino’s body, to where the shouts are closest to.  
I can’t hold in anything else, and while Neloth powers up a fire spell, I let out a whimper, drawing my knees to my chest, Bickslow’s form in my hands, the bloodstained weapons of mass destruction tracing tenderly along the lines of his face.  
The teams’ shouts are louder, and they seem to speed up, before bursting in through a large door usually used for large packages. Frankly, I’m amazed they came this far from their Fiore.  
The Thunder Legion is in front, and their magic hums around them, before they all stop short, finding not what they expected.  
I glare at them, but don’t do it for more than five seconds. The person that caused this is already dead, there is no reason for any more hatred. Right now, at least.  
Our two groups stand still for a moment, before Neloth starts up another round of flame spells, perfectly combusting the body of my former Brother.  
Laxus takes one step forward, and hesitates, his eyes wide.  
“Is he…?”  
My eyes close and I let out the loudest Shout I have ever spoken, shaking the foundations of the arena, and the entire city.  
I cry to the sky my lament, all in the tongue of the Dov, and I finish with a Storm Call, because there should be no more sunshine and happiness on this day.  
Or ever, for me, anymore.


	22. Bargaining and Last Resorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.

“Tell us what happened or you are finished here, now and forever, and your organization will be too.” threatens Erza Scarlet, holding a sword to my throat, her Heaven’s Wheel armor glinting off the Lightning Strikes in the sky.  
I do nothing, simply sitting on the floor of the arena, Bickslow, my Mate, my apprentice, one that I thought I could protect, dead, in my arms.  
“Put away that sword before you hurt yourself, girl. Can’t you see Listener isn’t in any state to talk to you about this, you idiotic girl.” Neloth snaps, lighting up his hands with Ash rune and an Ash spawn conjuration spell.  
“Answer the question!” she screams, ignoring Neloth’s warning, moving forward and leaving a tiny slash upon my throat, making my armor flare out and Neloth to use Ash rune on her.  
“Erza!”  
“Let her go, you bastards!”  
“He’s gone.” I croak out, not able to do anything else.  
“What?”  
“I said, he’s gone. Dead. Passed on. Making his way to the Hall of Valor in Sovngarde! Where the hell else do you people go when you die?” I scream at the crowd, rising quickly as my shouts escalate in volume, until I’m unintentionally shaking the entire foundations of the entire continent.  
Serana and Neloth glance at each other, worriedly. The last time I was this angry I almost leveled this city, then I did level a mountain, though very different. (24)  
“You… he was your apprentice. I’ll kill you for this!” screams out Laxus, and I don’t even do anything when he launches himself at me, attacking me with abundant strength and magical energy.  
Finally, after the twelfth hit, I put up a ward and catch his other fist.  
“I didn’t want this any more than you did.” I hiss, and his eyes glow brighter with power.  
“Liar.” he hisses back, and kicks me back, continuing his assault. I don’t put up another block. I know that I deserve at least some of this.  
I hit the back of the arena wall, and he keeps punching me, until Serana restrains him, pulling him off me a little, and I Shout him back, “Fus Ro Dah.”  
The Shout is lacking energy, but it still forces him back.  
He lands at the feet of his guild members, who have surrounded Bickslow’s body.  
“I should not be here anymore.” I whisper to Serana, who looks at me sadly, and nods.  
I leave the arena, taking my mask with me, and walk slowly through the city, the residents just beginning to stir.  
Down by the Waterfront, I sit, looking out at the water surrounding the Imperial City.  
“Mara, I…. I know that I don’t pray to you a lot, or ever, really, but…. I think, I think this is important. I want my Mate back. I thought that I wouldn’t ever need one, because I’ve been through my life alone in a crowd of people, but I… I truly care for him, and I don’t know if I can go on without him now, now that I’ve known….. the glory… of true love.” I mumble, tears flowing freely as the wind picks up and blows the ood back as well, my hair loose already.  
“Arkay, if my apprentice, my Mate, my…. Bickslow, if he’s dead, please, let him into the Hall Of Valor, and let Tsun know that he has the Dragonborn’s approval, and he was my…. my… the one person that I would gladly have given my life for, even if he hated me.” Muttering and staring at the shoreline, I must have looked like a crazy person, but I didn’t care enough.  
Tears ran down my face, washing away blood and grime, dirt and dust, until the tear tracks were clearly visible.  
“Stendarr, he was a righteous man, and forgave me for my crimes, unlike any other that I have ever known. Dibella, he saw the beauty in everything, from souls to people to nature. Julianos, he was a wonderful wizard, always in pursuit of knowledge to increase his own power and to help others by eliminating the ones that hurt others. Kynareth, he wished to be as free as the air that he breathed, and I don’t actually know if he got it. Zenithar, he was a hard worker and always strove to be the best in whatever he was doing. Talos, he was a warrior and a wizard and fought for what was noble and right.”  
“Father Akatosh.” I breath, whispering now, and staring at the sky instead of the lake. “Bormahu.”  
I pull out an Elder Scroll, and another, and another. All I have.  
“These Kel might be of use to you. I do not wish to have them if I cannot have what matters most to me. What are so often thought of as valuable are nothing to me. Take everything from me, if you will, just reverse what happened and let my Mate appear in my arms, whole and healthy.”  
I plead with the God, trying to let him know my pain. Evidently, the Gods did not hear me, and I stash the Scrolls into my bag again, before drawing out the one called Dragon, looking at it one last time, and throwing it into the lake, only to have it be caught by the talons of a dragon.  
“Dovahkiin. Why are you throwing away a Kel?” asks my mentor and teacher, alighting on the shore with me and holding out the Kel to me.  
I sigh, and shake my head.  
“Things became more complicated.”  
“They always are, Dovahkiin. Tell me, and I will listen.”  
I draw in a breath, and explain, taking the Kel to keep it away from my teacher.

“This seems to be a problem indeed, Dovahkiin. However, there may be a way for you to be joined with your, how did you put it, Yuvon Kulaan. Call our other friend here, and he may be able to help.” the ancient dragon says, chuckling a bit at my coloring at his hearing my words.  
“Od Ah Viing!” I Shout, and a distant roar answers, with my friend coming to aid.  
“Greetings, Dovahkiin, Paarthurnax. What is it you require of me?” he says after landing. In the distance, figures are moving, and it looks like Dragon Slayers. Better hop to it.  
“Can you take me to Skuldafn once more?”I ask, aware of the strange nature of my question.  
“Skuldafn? Why?” he questions, but lowers his head so I can climb aboard and sit.  
“I will explain on the way, Odahviing. Please, I do not wish to speak to these people. Paarthurnax, you should go as well. They may very well wish to know where the other dragons reside.” I say, walking towards my red dragon friend.  
“As you wish, Dovahkiin. But they may have more questions than you can answer, when they get the chance to ask them.” Paarthurnax speaks, as he takes flight.  
Odahviing waits until I’m almost aboard, and says, “You may wish to talk to your friends now, before they wonder where you are off to.”  
I start, and nod, smiling at the kind dragon. “Thank you, I’ll be quick.”  
He chuckles, rumbles building in his chest. “Time does not matter for us, or for you, Dovahkiin.”  
I pull out a lacrima, sharing in his laughter, and contact Serana.  
“Listener! Where are you? Some of the group peeled off a while ago, did they come after you?”  
“I can’t talk now, but watch over… his body. I need to see to something.”  
“Do I get to know what it is?” Neloth’s face edges in the communication, and I smile sadly.  
“No, Neloth, you would bother him and everyone else, including people that you’ve only met in spectral form.”  
“What is she talking about?” he questions, throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly.  
“Lucien?” guesses Serana, an eyebrow higher than the other.  
“No. Something… older than even him.” I say, and cut off the communications, just as the break off group reaches us.  
“Stop! How did a dragon appear here?” yells the one with pink hair, barely visible in the glow of his hands, on fire.  
“I called him. If you’ll excuse me, I have to see if something has actually happened.” I mount Odahviing, and he beats his wings, lifting us, and hovering for a moment. It’s long enough that I’m able to hear their other question.  
“How are you able to do this?”  
“I am the Dovahkiin.” I shout at them, and I know they hear me.  
“Let us go, Odahviing.”  
“Will you explain now, or will I have to keep guessing?”  
I smile, and repeat the story as I did for my mentor.  
It’s something, at least, that makes the time pass, until we reach Skuldafn.

“That is quite the story, Dovahkiin. I do not see how it connects to coming to Skuldafn once more, though.”  
“I never closed the portal from the mortal realm to Sovngarde; I couldn’t, because it was how I got through. The guardians should be dead, and I can pass easily through even if they are somehow revived. I just need to get to the portal.” I say, more to myself than to my friend.  
“Hmf. Beware, Dovahkiin, it is unknown how you may fare in the land of the dead after you have already been there once before.”  
“I’ve been to many different places; this doesn’t scare me like the thought that I may have lost my…. my Mate… forever, because of my negligence.”  
“It was not your fault, Dovahkiin. We are here.” answers Odahviing.  
I bid my friend farewell, but he is reluctant to leave me. Considering last time, I almost died so close to my goal and destiny, it’s not the craziest thing. This is, however, one of the most insane things I’ve ever done.  
All for my apprentice.  
My Mate.  
… I’m really far gone, aren’t I?

I make it through the last tunnel, sniping the sentinels guarding the halls with gun magic. This way is quicker than with a bow and arrow; they’re Deathlords, so they’d be hard to take down, even for me, in swarms.  
The last door parts easily for me, my arm still a bit sore from taking all that damage, from a skeleton dragon. That certainly wasn’t there last time, although I have encountered one before, in the Labyrinthian.  
I put away the gun magic, and pull out my dagger, made of Dragonbone. Lifting it up to the neck of the unsuspecting Death Overlord, I sever his head from his body, taking no pride in it. I’ve been thinking this entire time that I’ve been in this ruin, trying to clear my head, getting no satisfaction from killing these sentinels that are long-dead.  
If I’m right, then I may be able to save him…. if I cannot, at least I’ll know that he’s somewhere safe. Sadly, then I will not be able to join him. I think.  
The next one’s alerted, and in a crouch still, I slip behind him, repeating my earlier actions. These dried up old skeletons, husks of former creatures, are no match for me.  
A final Overlord comes over, looking around for the perpetrator of the killings of it’s comrades. A second later, a knife sticks out of it’s chest, and it’s down.  
My expression somber, I retrieve my knife and wipe it off, dust on the blade coming off easily. In the midst of wiping it on my armor, I cut through it, drawing blood easily with how sharp it is. I watch the red liquid drip down my leg, onto the stone floor of this ancient ruin. The gleam of it seems to be the only color in my life right now, from the blood of my Mate to the blood of my enemies, and myself, while everything else is gray.  
“Nothing else matters now.” I whisper to myself, a tear leaking out of my left eye, my right one being struck by an arrow earlier. I’ve been hit several times, and haven’t bothered to heal a single one of them.  
I shrug my shield onto my left arm, and pull out my sword with my right, my face somber. I don’t care who I have to kill, but I’ll do it. Even if he never wants to see me again, after all that I’ve done.  
I charge up the steps to where the Dragon Priest is, and I find him with two Atronachs, a Frost and a Storm. Ah, Old Magic. I have missed you.  
The two conjured creatures easily fall before my blade after a few hacks and slices, allowing me to move on to the Dragon Priest, my target, and, the only thing that stands in the way between me and my Mate.  
A roar, and I charge, fury in my eyes, and with a flick of my wrist, my enemy’s jaw is on the floor, his lifeless body falling to the ground as it turns to ash.  
My eyes close, fading the world to black, and I take a breath. Easy. Too easy, killing has become.  
I bite my lip as a memory, unbidden, rises to the forefront of my mind.

~  
“Now, young one, what do you think of evil people?” asked Arngeir, still young, although in his 60’s.  
I wrinkled my nose. “They kill people.”  
“Yes, most do. But what about the wolf? What…” he paused, gaining control over his voice again. I was used to such things, as I had been at the monastery of High Hrothgar for several years now. “Does what he do to survive make him evil?”  
“No, if he’s doing it to survive.”  
“Then what if it is like that for a person?” he asked, his eyes twinkling at me like they always did when he asked a question that had no strict right answer. He wished for me to grow up, from being a cub to being an adult, but with ethics and morals that would, hopefully, aid me.  
“Then, I guess it’s alright. But if the person does it again for no good reason, then they’re evil.”  
“A very nice way of putting it, little cub. Come, Borri has made sweetrolls.”  
~

The echoes of my childish ‘Yay!’ reverberate through my mind. I shrug my shield, once more, onto my back, and head up to the gateway, where the staff has been, a portal open to the Afterlife that has been here all these years.  
“Goodbye world, and hello Sovngarde.” I mutter, and enter the beam of light.

I enter through the gateway, and my breath is stolen away from me, even though I’ve seen this beauty before. Then, I was in awe of it, but I am still. Nothing prepares you for the beauty of the spirit realm of the brave and noble.  
Which, if I’m correct, is where he will be. But, I do not know for certain.  
I run along the pathway, this time clear of fog, and sprint to the Whalebone bridge, though pain has sprung up again in my stomach region.  
My teeth grind together, and I push onwards, not pausing for even a second in my run towards the last place I may ever find my Mate.  
I see the building at last, and the God Tsun guarding it as well.  
“Hail, friend. What right have you to cross this bridge and join the noble warriors of Sovngarde?” he asks, not realizing who I am.  
“Tsun, have you seen a mage recently? With red or green eyes, and blue and black hair?” I respond, desperate.  
“No. Who are you to know my name?” he frowns, looking at me suspiciously.  
“The Dovahkiin. I killed Alduin in here with the help of three warriors from the hall of Valor, who sent Alduin forward in time to where I was with an Elder Scroll called Dragon.”  
“What did you say to make me fight you?”  
“I am the Night Mother’s Listener, by right of blood I shall pass.”  
“It is you. It has been a long time, far longer than even an elf should have been alive. How are you not sitting at our tables with us, singing our songs?”  
“I became a vampire, and the person I am looking for, whom I just described to you, is my Mate. He has died- I wish to know if he is here, so that I can tell his comrades that he was judged by the gods to be a hero as he rightly is.” I say, my voice breaking.  
Tsun moves from his place, and gestures to sit. I follow his example, and sit on the ground, not noticing how tired I am until now.  
“Your… Mate. Did you bite him?” he asks, patting me on the back while keeping his eyes on the roadways, looking for any new arrivals.  
“I did, when he was almost dead. A Family member, a Dark Brother, wanted to kill me for he blamed me for killing his love, and my own love… he got caught in the crossfire.”  
“Were you truly to blame for either of those deaths?”  
“Partially. I took him on as my apprentice four months ago, on a whim and because of a bet. His own guild has searched for him for all that time that he’s been gone, and have attacked on several occasions, when they could. That actually culminated in the loss of an entire Sanctuary, and many Family members, Brothers and Sisters, but it drove Aventus to do so, to come after me. I was responsible for everyone there…. in a different way. It’s like how you trust someone to not bring enemies who will kill the people who accepted the first person. I… I let them down.”  
I hang my head in shame, and let my shoulders sag. For so long….  
“For so long I’ve fought against the evil in the world, trying to kill corrupt politicians and kings, emperors and generals, trying to better the world so that if I left it, it would remember me in a way that would also make sure that it would, in fact, be better. For so long, I’ve tried to be happy with just my Family and myself, but I am not. For so long, I’ve wanted someone to share it with, and I found him. I found him, and then I lost him. I don’t know what I’ll do without him. For so long, I’ve only imagined what love felt like, not sibling, or, or, friendship, but actual, real, love. I found it in him, when I told him the worst things I had in me, in my very soul, and he just, he accepted it. It was the weirdest, and the scariest thing in my life, because nothing has ever terrified me so much, not even the World Eater, or the prospect of death, or losing every Family member I ever had.  
“No, the thing that’s leaving me, a battle-hardened warrior, scarred and scared for life is one person. And now that I’ve found him, just…. what am I supposed to do?”  
Tsun rubs my back, and looks at me, my head between my arms and below my knees.  
“Sometimes it is not about the destination, it is about the journey. However, this time, you reached your destination without the subsequent journey, and you started on that without knowing it. You reached out on a limb, and something grasped it. You have done something that most people would not do, but you did it. And if I know anything about you, it’s that this world, this place outside of the realm of the Gods, it is nothing compared to the feelings that one person can have for another. You have discovered that, and you will conquer it. With,or without, your Mate. Because that is the kind of person you are.”  
I smile, and lift my head, peering at him from the gap between my bicep and arm.  
“Thank you Tsun. Would you mind if I stayed, and watched with you? Just to be sure?”  
He nods, and stands, resuming his post, and I stand with him, tall and strong, how I was born, and how I was meant to be.  
I wipe the remaining tears off my face, and tell myself that even if he is dead and I cannot win this battle, I will go on. Until I too, die, and hopefully join him, where he belongs.  
With the heroes.

I wait a little longer, and sigh. Tsun gives me a knowing look. I’ve been in Sovngarde for two days, and then some.  
“It is not happening, Dovahkiin. It is time for you to go back.” he says, and my shoulders sag with unseen weight.  
“... Very well, Tsun. I hope the next time I see you it will be for a celebration of a life rather than something so dramatic.”  
He smiles, and sends me back to Nirn, to Mundus.  
Where I’ve been, without regrets, for thousands of years.

The Throat of the World greets me, as do my mentor and Odahviing.  
“Did you find what you were looking for, Dovah?” asks Paarthurnax, and I can tell that he wishes he could help. Alas, there is nothing he can do. Nothing I can do.  
“No, I did not. Excuse me, I must contact Serana.”  
The two denizens of the sky glance at each other, and nod slightly. A communications lacrima is out in my hand already, and Serana’s face appears almost instantly.  
“Listener! Where have you been? The entire city has been practically flooded with people, from that guild he was in and all.”  
“I… had to confirm something. It hasn’t helped. Has anything else happened?” I ask, and she shakes her head no.  
“They’ve all just been gathering around his body, in the arena. They haven’t even allowed it to be moved.”  
“I’ll be there soon. Make sure Neloth doesn’t cause any trouble, or if he’s already done that, don’t let him do any more damage.”  
“But I-”  
I cut off the flow of magic, interrupting Serana. Rude, yes, but I need to get there. Even if I couldn’t do anything, it matters.  
“Odahviing, would you transport me to the Imperial City once more?”  
He lands on the snowy mountaintop, and I smile slightly as I climb on his back.  
“Of course, Dovahkiin.”

The ride back to the Imperial City from Keizaal is fairly quick by normal standards, but it seemed to take years, decades even, to even cross the border.  
Once it’s in sight, I stand up, slinging my left leg to my right side, and hearing Odahviing not understanding what I’m doing.  
“Feim Zii Gron!” I Shout, jumping off of Odahviing’s body and going Ethereal. He banks, trying to catch me, but I wave to him over my shoulder. There’s not much here he, or Paarthurnax, could do.  
I land, just before the Shout wears off, and am back in normal form before the dust settles. I’ve arrived in Green Emperor Way, and I wince slightly at the amount in damages that will cost, considering I’ve cracked something that’s stood before I was alive, the foundations of the Tower. Oh, whatever. I’m past caring right now.  
Hurrying, I sprint towards the door to the Arena section of the city, and fling it open, hoping to find nothing bad and something good.  
The crowd of people is still there, but Serana sees me before they do, and nods, which I assume tips off Neloth, because he triggers a rune that clears a path right through them. As they’re down, I sweep in, my dragonscale cloak brushing past them. It was a gift from Tsun, well, really, from the warriors of Sovngarde. The edges have a dusting of otherworldly frost on them, and leave it in my wake. They said it responds to my emotions, but I do not know for sure, as I have been nothing but gloomy and sulking when I was there.  
“You dare show your face here again?” asks Makarov, his short stature and rosy cheeks, indicating a sure temper tantrum, doing nothing to halt me except for a brief glance and a pause of a few moments.  
The Thunder Legion stands by the- the body, and I close my eyes, bringing up my years of courage and sacrifice to the forefront of my mind. I have never backed down from a challenge. I will never.  
My feet bring me closer, and it comforts me to know that Decimus has moved so that he is by my side, on my right. A swoop of wind, and I barely glance to know that it is our second newest member, Erigor, on my left. His armor, from what I can tell, suits him quite well. He’s even stopped carrying around his scythe.  
I reach my Mate’s body, and kneel down, bringing out an item I thought I would never use, let alone even have thought of. The helmet I made for him, unintentionally, my best piece of work, would be with its rightful owner. Leaning close to his ear, I feel coldness radiating from his body, and whisper something, before drawing back and placing the item in his hands.  
I do not remember how long I was there; I do not care to remember. All I know is, my Mate…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (24)- A mountain of pride. I killed the Blades for attempting to murder Paarthurnax.


	23. History Not Really Explained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Map by Adam Lambert.

“Listener.” says a voice near me, and I respond, stirring slightly in my meditation by Bickslow’’s side. I have not left since I came back.  
“What’s your real name?” the voice says again, stronger as I wake up.  
“It’s only fair that I know your name when you know mine.” that has a characteristic twinge to it, of familiar pain and the like.  
I open my eyes, and look at my surroundings again. Laxus has not moved from his vigil either, and no one else is moving, all in the same state of shock.  
My gaze falls to the body by my side, and I cock my head to the side, hearing something. Something familiar and strange.  
Hesitantly, I cast a Detect Life spell, and see no glimmer of life there, but I can hear something, faintly. I bring out a Detect Dead spell, spying only about half of what it should be present in his body. I cast the other spell in unison with Detect Dead, and find that now, he has one full signature now.  
“Serana.” I whisper, and I can tell the Dragon Slayers heard me as well, but Serana acts fastest, rushing to my side and kneeling beside me.  
“What?” she hisses back, aware of the glares she’s receiving from the ones with enhanced hearing, the only ones who’ve noticed so far.  
“Alteration, detection spells. Now.” I order her, and she glances at me, a bit alarmed, but follows my directions. She gasps, looking at the magical signature with me.  
Serana gapes like a slaughterfish, and merely looks at me.  
I stand up, and hurry over to Neloth, losing any semblance I have of looking normal, or at least not excited.  
“Neloth,” I breath, and whisper in his ear what to do, wanting to be sure. I would confirm it with Decimus, but he does not know both spells.  
He nods, and casts the spell, taking in the half of Bickslow with the Dead spell, and half in the Life.  
“I do not know, Listener.” he shakes his head, sighing. “I wish I did- Maybe if I ran a few tests?”  
I growl, and he quickly puts his hands up. “Not going to touch him, I swear!”  
“Good.” I say with narrow eyes.  
The Dragon Slayers, now thoroughly interested in this altercation, are approaching, except for the pink haired Fire one, who is comforting a blonde with short hair sobbing into his arm, although based on what I saw earlier, it was more for an opportunity than not. How dare she.  
Quickly, I turn to Neloth, and say, “Is there anything?”  
He frowns, and thinks quickly. “Possibly, but it might not work well. You still have the Scrolls?” he answers.  
“I do, but I don’t want to use them, they’re dangerous and no one understands them. I’ve looked at them way too much as well, I fear the next time I do I’ll feel the repercussions much more than usual.”  
Neloth scoffs. “You’ve looked at at least two, and at least four times at one in particular.”  
“I hate it when Serana tells you things like that.” I sigh, but grudgingly agree mentally. The Scrolls are dangerous, and can drive a person insane, and blind, but they might save him. However, they might only reanimate his corpse, or replay his death, or any number of horrific things.  
“The risk is too great. Are there any other possible ways?” I ask my companion, and his expression remains passive as he searches his brain for a spell, a power, an artifact, a miracle, that could solve this dilemma.  
“You might be able to ask your Master, but I do not think that you can offer him very much on your current situation.” he says, and although he does not entirely understand the concept of a Vampire’s Mate, he, at the very least, knows it’s important.  
I nod, and move over to Decimus, whispering to him to stall the Dragon Slayers from talking to me, at least for a minute.  
He sets off on his task, and makes up something about what I’m doing, doing exactly as I wished. I smile slightly at his loyalty, and speak to Serana once more.  
“What Daedric Prince would be most willing to heal him?” I ask Serana, and she considers the question. Messing with Daedra, even if you’re their Champion, is a messy business, and can be quite disastrous no matter who it is, or who you are.  
“Meridia, Azura, Sheogorath, Mephala, Peryite, Clavicus Vile, Namira.” she replies, but her face reminds me that this is not for sure, in any case.  
“Peryite might protest, this might not be the natural order, Sheogorath would need me to cause some more madness, or he’d drive him insane, Meridia might not want to, Clavicus Vile would strike a bargain, Namira might just do it but in a vile way and make him different, Mephala would want some sinister plot unveiled, Azura might not be willing to do something about this.” I summarize my options.  
“What are you going to do?” she asks, and I quickly decide, pulling out a potion made of a flawless ruby, deathbell, vampire dust, and a silver ingot.  
“One way to figure this out.” I pop the top of the potion, and breath in the fumes of the hallucinatory potion. Almost immediately, I see several old rats, Skeevers, really, and smile, knowing Peryite is hearing me.  
“Yes, mortal, what is it?” Peryite’s voice greets me, and I respond smoothly, stating the facts that would be required to fix this.  
“This is a concerning predicament. The other princes, especially Sheogorath, would not want me to interfere. However, I do believe there is something that can help. Rather, someone, actually.”  
I tilt my head to the side, staring at the Skeever in front, it’s paws up and cleaning it’s head.  
“My previous champion rescued a group of my followers from a state such as this a long while ago, in the end of the Third Era, the Oblivion Crisis. She, perhaps, will know what to do about your Mate’s… disorder. Your time is up for our little chat, Dragonborn. Prove me proud, and restore the natural order.”  
I blink a few times, watching the Skeevers fade, and see the Dragon Slayers making their way towards me. At the front is Laxus, and lightning is coming out of his ears, he’s so angry.  
I pay no attention, though, and start to think. Now, where would a hero from the Oblivion Crisis be buried?  
“Where’s the nearest library?” I whisper to Serana, and she replies, “The White-Gold Tower has one, but you’ll have to sneak in.”  
“Got it.” I say, taking off at a sprint into the Bloodworks beneath the Arena and emerging outside of it and in the City. The Slayers are on my tail, so I run for it, letting loose a few trap spells to set them back. Nothing serious, just something that will stall them a little bit. Ash runes.  
The Tower looms over the city like a Lord over his peasants, and I scowl at it, wondering how high the library is. It does not matter, however, in the long run. I just need to know what will happen next.  
An invisibility spell covering me, I sneak past all the guards and patrols running up and down the circular halls. Honestly, with empires, it was so much better. Now it’s just Kings. They’re so boring compared to Emperors. Much less important, and less of an uproar when you kill one. Still pretty big, though.  
The first few floors prove nothing in my search besides annoyance, and although I am tempted to take a few souvenirs for myself and my fences, I do not, knowing a certain person who I wish to save would probably not approve.  
When did catering to one person become my life? I silently ponder as the levels slip by, always checking for patrols or people or books or anything close to what I need.  
Finally, on the 7th level, I find the library, with shelves lining the entire walls, hallway and otherwise central location.  
It’s time to start the search.

After three hours of searching, I find nothing pertaining to anything like this. Until a Blind Moth Priest comes down to help a person, Camilla Camerillis, I believe, find an Elder Scroll. Why they let regular people read them, I’ll never know. She remarks on her way up the staircase that she was doing some very interesting reading upon the effects of magic on plants, and I remember, just then, about an obscure text making a mention of a book, no, actually, a diary of sorts, of some man thousands of years ago, about vampirism and plants.  
It rings a bell- in the form of the fact that it’s from an excerpt of another book, one that had only several copies in the entire world, and none of them matched up with the other in their events.  
Until you put them together.  
Somehow, by luck alone, the library had all seven editions of the book, and I grab them, stuffing them in my bag and then turning invisible again and stepping down the stairs ever so softly, so as not to disturb the guards any more than I already have.  
With my prize intact, I exit the tower and find the Dragon Slayers in a fight with guards, who I assume have told them that the tower is off limits to strangers at night.  
I chuckle darkly. I’m no stranger to fighting, hate, lies, or deceit. It’s love that confuses me.

Once outside the city, on top of a horse I just purchased because I felt like not walking and reading and running into something, I read while the horse walks to Cheydinhal, where one of the oldest and most secure sanctuaries rests.  
‘16th of Hearth Fire  
Martin Septim lies dead. Actually, he’s a statue, immortalized as a dragon statue in the Temple of the One, after he sacrificed himself to end the Oblivion Crisis and send Dagon back to Oblivion and close the rift forever.  
He said that he wanted to tell me something- something important. What could it have been? He almost pulled me aside when we last saw each other, before I handed him the Amulet of Kings.  
Will I ever know?’

‘The portal outside of Bravil led to the realm of Sheogorath, and I stopped the Greymarch. Should I feel accomplishment at this? I do not know what else there is to do here. I refuse the title of Madgod and burn the things that remind me of that place. I like my sanity, and wish it to be intact, thank you very much. I sent in the Count’s son, telling him that this realm had all the skooma he could indulge himself in. It’s Sheogorath’s realm, how badly can he mess it up?  
Martin, I know you wanted more for me, for yourself, but what was it. What could you mean.’

‘The Blackwood Company is no more. The Hist tree with the bad sap is destroyed and burned. Their guild hall is the only thing that remains, in Leyawiin, that will remind anyone that they were an organization that once challenged the Fighter’s Guild of Tamriel.  
I still do not understand what Martin wanted me to know.’

‘Mannimarco is forever silenced and dead, rotting as the King of Worms should be. A foolhardy opponent and a poor planner. Honestly, I think he expected Traven to do nothing and let him take over the Mages Guild. However, the Arch-Mage so fiercely devoted to stopping necromancy and Mannimarco’s art is gone. His soul fills a colossal black soul gem, sitting on my desk in his old quarters. I remember I woke him, and he died, right next to his bed.  
I cannot sleep in it. As Arch-Mage now, like him, I can do something like that. But I do not believe I want to. The man before me believed in himself and this guild. I do not.  
Martin, what was it you were trying to tell me? Would it have saved me from this inner turmoil?’

‘The Cowl of Nocturnal is in my hand, and when I put it on, I am not myself anymore. I am the Gray Fox, the greatest thief in the land, in time itself. I did not think I would do this, but I am the Master of the Thieves’ Guild.  
What am I becoming?  
Martin…. I should stop writing that name. It only brings me sadness. Yet it is so important.’

‘The Gray Prince, Arena Grand Champion, his lifeless eyes and still corpse flash across my mind whenever I close my eyes. It won’t stop. This madness, it will not leave me alone. What sorcery is it, that I cannot understand, that the world itself does not give me pause anymore? That killing people, creatures, animals, things, doesn’t bother me like it did when I was a child? Where is the peace? It is most certainly not inside me.  
Martin, if you were here…. I wish you could grant me this peace. But you cannot, can you?’

‘I understand so much more, now. This peace, that killing grants me, is a release, from the simplicity of life and this limiting form, to grant me a glimpse into the infinite Void, and hear the sweet call of Sithis to my ears. I Listen for the Night Mother, and me and my blade shall serve you until our dying breath. This, I pledge, and my ghost shall guard your sacred children, Night Mother, as long as you let me. The sanguine pleasures of the descent into darkness allow me to feel joy again, at least, until they die, and their singing ends.  
Oh Martin, Martin, please come back to me, I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to betray anybody like that traitor did but please please come back to me I need you and I can’t understand it but I need to have you back in my life but I’ll never be able to follow you into your afterlife and you don’t understand the wreckage of my world here it’s deteriorating around me I think I’m going insane and I can’t help it but if only you could come back you could comfort me and we could be together just us two and the world would disappear in our sights behind us and we’d never have to think about leaving each other again but you can’t because you’re gone and the gods took you away from me so I turned to the Daedra and they can’t do anything either and now I wish I died when you did so that I wouldn’t have to live out this nightmare without you.  
End of records. I have no need of these petty involvements of my life with anyone who wishes to read my journal.  
For those of you looking for conversation and an entrance into a legend’s mind, come find me. I’ll be waiting in my tomb beneath the place where the color of night is always sanguine.’  
I press the horse to run faster, harder, and don’t let up for a second.

When I get to Cheydinhal, the horse is covered in lather and sweat, breathing hard. I give her to the stable hand, tipping him a few jewels for his trouble and a large purse for lodging her. She’s earned it. I couldn’t have run faster myself.  
The city itself is dead quiet, the night settled upon the place as it does. The abandoned house still stands, and I cut through the backyard, reaching the well, but I pause, and go instead to the door. I don’t know where the tomb is located, and I must find it.  
Black Doors guard all our sanctuaries, and this one must have been her first contact with the Brotherhood. The Cheydinhal sanctuary….  
At once, when I enter the room, the ghost of Lucien Lachance, my spectral assassin, is by my side, reminiscing about his days and the betrayal that rocked the world of the Black Hand 200 years before I was involved in it.  
“Listener.” speaks Oncario, the one in charge of the Sanctuary here. His black and white striped hair denotes his ability to go from lighter, healing magic to much darker tones, such as outright blood and poison magic.  
“We got the new recruit you sent us. Is everything alright?” he asks, noticing my agitation.  
“I need to find a previous Listener’s tomb, and she should be buried underneath this sanctuary somewhere.” I say, trying to keep a level voice.  
“Of course.” he bows his head, his long earring in his right ear tingling a bit musically. “Would you like our assistance?” he inquires, knowing me well.  
I shake my head no, already halfway across the room. “Thank you, but no. It’s not something that another person would survive well, I believe.”  
He moves back to his position, reading a book, although it’s five minutes to midnight. Our company here keeps strange hours.  
I hasten through the chambers of the sanctuary, getting to the last place here, which is an office for the visiting Speaker, or even me. This is one of my favorite Sanctuaries. So much terror planned within these walls… it gives me the chills.  
I notice something that I long dismissed as nothing. A frayed corner of a tapestry, holding the images of the Night Mother and Sithis, with their five children sacrificed to him. I push it aside, not caring for it right now, and find a tunnel.  
I slip in, Lucien right behind me, and it widens to the point where I can stand and move about freely. A black door is in between me and my goal.  
“What is the true color of her soul?” it whispers, and it’s eyes seem to come to life and stare at me, taking me in.  
I almost answer, ‘Black, my brother,’ but something stops me. This is not a question that should ever be asked anywhere by our Black Doors. This… it’s personal.  
“Red, my sister,” I speak, and hope to Sithis it’s the right one.  
The door opens, slightly, dust eeking out from where it did. I pull on the door, edging it open marginally, until I can squeeze through. Lucien follows, and the door slams shut behind us.  
“Who dares disturb my ancient slumber?” hisses a voice in the tomb with us.  
“The Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.”  
“That is not good enough.” it continues, and it’s anger leaks out.  
“I am the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild, Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold, Harbinger of the Companions, Legate of the Imperial Army, Volkihar Vampire, Defeater of the First Dragonborn, Thane of all the Holds in Skyrim, Champion of the Daedric Princes, Nightingale of Nocturnal, Living Legend, and the Last Dragonborn.” I speak out, expecting to be thrown out with a roar and some burns, or something even worse.  
“Dragonborn, you say? Come in. Lucien, is that you?” the voice whispers, and the specter follows me, although I can sense that he is as curious, if not more, than me.  
“Listener that I raised to a Silencer, and who followed me into a Speaker….. it is you.” he says, catching sight of something before I.  
I turn to look at what his eyes held, but he rushes forward before I can even say something, and hugs her. They break away, and I see it is another specter, although it appears much more solid.  
She caresses his cheek, translucent tears making their way down her face.  
“It has been too long, brother. We shall meet each other again, in Sithis’ embrace.” she speaks, and once she stops touching him, he vanishes, and rotates her body to look at me.  
Her figure is slim, tightly wound, athletic, ready to spring like a tiger on a whim. Her hair tumbles down her back, and it looks bluish black, dark enough to make me wonder what it looked like in life, not only in death, and her face is soft, lips puckered and skin smooth as silk, until you reach her eyes. They stare into your soul.  
“So. The Last Dragonborn. I feel you are overdue for an encounter with our Dread Father, and, consequently, me.” she starts, sitting down on her tomb and patting the cold surface beside her. The posture she holds is rigid, as if she is maintaining distance and coldness purposefully. I do not wonder why.  
“I suppose I am. Your journals… I found them. Would you like them returned?” I ask, pulling one out from my satchel it’d been in only moments ago.  
She flinches. “I do not wish to hold the memories of madness I placed in those journals long ago. It is beyond me.”  
I nod, replacing it back in it’s proper place among my things.  
“Why are you here, Dragonborn?”  
“Why are any of us here?” I counter.  
“The Sanctuary is still standing. I am hardly being used as a last resort here. Why are you here?” she asks again, and I sigh.  
“Your journals… they remarked about Martin Septim, and something you felt for him. What was it?” I inquire, desperation pleading into my voice no matter how hard I tried to contain it.  
“Ah, yes, that. That was… a love so strong I can feel it pulse when I close my eyes. I feel him, even now, and then, I could not even handle the thought of him. In death, though, he found peace, and learned about his heritage and why the Septim emperors never, ever, had to have mistresses.”  
“They found their Mate. I was Martin’s, but mistakenly, he began the bonding process without realizing, and when he died, I became increasingly insane. This is a Dragonborn’s gift, beyond the blood. It can be a curse, too.”  
I close my eyes, and shake my head. “It afflicts me, extremely so. This curse of the Dragonborn…. it…. I do not know what to do. I thought that he was safe, but I was betrayed by one I thought was my own, and he killed him. I tried to turn him into a vampire, but now he rests in the cradle between life and death and I visited Sovngarde to see if he was there, but now I know that was a fool’s errand in the first place.”  
The spectral Listener places an arm around my shoulders, drawing me to her body, emanating warmth. I can feel a smile on her face rather than see.  
“Shh, it is alright. I know for a fact that a Mate can forgive even the most grievous of sins and crimes. I forgave Martin for abandoning me here on Nirn, and, in a way, I believe that we are one, in that regard. His statue still resides in the Imperial City, and a part of him rests there. I believe that the day I leave, he will shatter it in his joy as he attempts to come back to me.”  
I hiccup, thinking about if Bickslow would do that for me.  
“I doubt my Mate would do such measures.” I spit out like venom.  
“You don’t understand. If he leaves you, or if you leave him, the other will go insane. Once they find each other, it is not a question of what they want to do. It is a matter of the heart and the mind has no say in it. Trust me, I tried. If he rejects you, then it is too bad, but both of you will die a broken hearted person, and be reunited in death, where no one will think less of you for that fact, and if you are joined, then in both lives you will be bonded, forever. It is not a matter of anything mortal about it. It is in the stars, written by the gods, and arranged by the Elder Scrolls long disappeared from this world and destroyed with their own power. It is justly so.”  
“So, if I leave him, or if he leaves me, I’m doomed, as is this world?”  
“Perhaps. What was your destiny?”  
“I had a prophecy about me, the Last Dragonborn, to slay and defeat Alduin. I did, but it was in Sovngarde, so I do not know if he is truly gone and will not return.”  
The Champion of Cyrodiil nods, leaning back a bit in understanding. “Ah. You do not wish to leave this world because of the fact that there might not be a world after you’re gone.”  
“Yes.” I respond, looking down. “There are also many people in this world that I care about- people both in our Family, and without.”  
“And you do not know that if you die, the souls of them will be in the Void with our Dread Father.”  
“Yes.”  
“Ah. I believe that you are right in your beliefs, even if you do not believe it yourself. The realm you so love is not in mortal danger, as far as we are concerned, though, so why not? Why are you still living?”  
“I… I do not wish to be… alone. I distance myself from everyone here, most of the time, because the people here die fairly easily and quickly compared to my years, or even to what I would have, not being a vampire. I am afraid that if I die… I will not go to the Void. I don’t know if I have a choice anymore. I’m supposed to go to Nocturnal, to Sovngarde, to the Void, to the Hunting Grounds of Hircine, not to mention the many Daedric Princes would love to have my soul to command as a footsoldier.  
“I am scared of, not death, but what happens afterward. What if I don’t even get to have an afterlife? What if I get to go to Sovngarde, but instead of passing into the Hall of Valor, I am rejected, reduced to rubble, because of the actions I took later on? I do not know, and that is why I ran from death, by way of vampirism. I justified it by making myself into a realm’s guardian against the World-Eater, no matter the toll on me. But I just couldn’t face the uncertainty of death, when the spirit of life is still going on.”  
The Champion of Cyrodiil’s face turns contemplative after I finish my little speech.  
“You are afraid of the afterlife, so you refuse to face it. I cannot fault you for this. And I cannot think of a better reason for a person to not die than to guard this world. But you have taken this task upon yourself, and now you cannot escape. You have trapped yourself in your fear. I believe that our time is up. Go, go and find your Mate and tell him your feelings.” she advises me, and I stand, concerned with my thoughts.  
“Dragonborn-you have nothing to lose in this regard.”  
“But I do- my life, the fate of this world, and my sanity are all hanging in the balance here. Thank you, Champion. I look forward to seeing your counterpart later.” I say over my shoulder, my tone biting, or at least nipping at her heels.  
I turn up the hood of my cloak, climb the stairs of the Sanctuary, and get a buzz from a lacrima on my belt. Erigor. I’d almost forgotten.  
“Listener.” he addresses me.  
“Are you ready to become a Dark Brother?”  
“Yes.” he replies with no hesitation. Things at Eisenwald must have been worse than I thought.  
“Journey to Bruma, the Sanctuary is beneath an old Speaker’s house, now inhabited by a fence for thieves. Do not kill him, but go around his house, and the cellar will contain the Black Door, which will ask, “What numbs pain?” You are to answer, “Pain, my Brother.” Do you understand?”  
Erigor confirms his understanding, and hangs up. I place the lacrima back on my belt, before heading out, choosing the door for once.  
“Good luck, Listener.” I hear the whisper in my mind, sounding like the Night Mother and the previous Listener’s voice. The small comfort they provide me is mockingly tiny.


	24. A Party to Remember (and Forget)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Hallelujah.  
> There is the end. But the sequel will be out soon.

The journey back to the Imperial City is swift, thought not swift enough for my tastes. Almost three days have passed between now and the this horrible event starting it all.  
Well, not all. But certainly my trauma.  
The arena is easy to find and travelled to. Now to herd through the crowd of people. Mostly guildmates of his, and I simply move through them, needing to see it once more, to be able to confirm the fact in my mind.  
His body is lying, still where it fell, and it seems everyone has been taking their share of grief. They let me pass largely unhindered, and Serana, Neloth, and Decimus are standing clustered together opposite the Fairies. I walk over to them, and shake my head. “I found nothing in all that I know that suggests that his soul is anywhere I could reach.”  
“You went to Sovngarde?” asks Serana, eyes wide.  
I nod, and turn to where his body is. Slowly, I tear myself away from the comfort of what has essentially come to be my family, and walk towards his body. Hesitantly, the spells spring to life in my hand. He’s gone.  
But that doesn’t mean he’s dead.  
“Serana, how long was I gone?” I ask, not moving my orbs from his form.  
“About three days. Just, in about three minutes, if I remember correctly.”  
“Then, I think, he’ll be alright.”  
“You’re joking. You must be joking!” shouts out Laxus, who appears to have eavesdropped on this entire conversation.  
“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, lightning slayer. You would do well to remember that.” I hiss at him, not moving an inch.  
He comes up close to me, his fists full of lightning, his ears almost giving off steam. The rest of his Thunder Legion seems to do nothing but look on, while a petite blond girl breaks away from Erza Scarlet, and hurries up to his hulking form.  
“Laxus, it won’t do any good to hurt her. It won’t bring him back. Stop it!” she gets in his face and screams this at him, and I think it impacts him. I don’t look to see though, as I am preoccupied with coming close to examine the body of my Mate.  
“It won’t bring him back, but something I did already might. I’m not sure yet- it could be that he is dead. Only one way to find out.” I speak, loud enough that Majarov can hear me, and spies my form crouching over his fairy’s.  
“What do you think you are doing?” he seethes, his eyes glowing red in his anger.  
“Checking something.” I lean over his chest, and search with my elevated hearing for a heartbeat. I hear nothing. His lungs, however, they are whistling. Not a whole lot, but a bit, at least.  
“Serana, come here please. Neloth, you too.”  
“What do you want us to do?” he asks, for once not snarky.  
“You know the signs, right? And how much time until three days exactly?”  
“Since what?”  
“Since I bit him.”  
“I’d say we’ve got about one and a half minutes more.”  
I turn to Neloth, who took my place next to the body. “I think it might be happening, although I’m not a hundred percent sure. You’re sure he got it?”  
“It’s a possibility.”  
“Well then. We’ll see.”  
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” screams the crotchety and midget old man.  
“I think he’s alive.” I say to the group of people gathering around us, and looking frightfully angry.  
This might not be the best time to explain things.

The crowd gathering around us is in awe of my powers of perception, as my Mate bursts upward in a gasp of air and explosion of movement.  
There’s silence for a moment, and then everyone, simultaneously, starts bawling like a baby. I cast a strange glance over them, then turn my attention to my Mate.  
“Bickslow…” I breath, not daring to say more. His previously dull, red eyes turn to me, and they’re full of fire instead of death. Cold fire, and hot death await the people on the receiving end of his wrath.  
“Listener…”  
I hug him, just taking in the presence of my Mate being alive and well enough to talk to me and respond to this action. Such a display of my emotions is… unusual for me, but not exceedingly so, thanks to the fact that he was my apprentice for four months.  
The entire guild stares at the scene, and as soon as I let him go, they all rush at him, tackling him in a great big hug that I doubt helps his current condition and new feelings and sensations assaulting him in his new life.  
Serana and Neloth squeal and hug each other, and I wish I could take a picture of both that and their faces afterwards. It’s just too cute, their embarrassment.  
Once they finally back off, it’s a wonder that no one is dead from suffocation. Calmly, they all back off, and it’s interesting to note who’s by who. For example, Evergreen, I believe, is next to a very largely muscled man who keeps saying that he’s manly, and Laxus is next to a blond girl (25), and it seems natural, between the two of them.  
Immediately, almost, a dark brown haired woman almost wearing nothing on her torso calls for a party, and they all start yelling and shouting for joy, most of them hugging the person closest to them, including the aforementioned couples, all of whom instantly blush.  
In the meantime, I waltz over to where Bickslow still lies, bowled over by his guildmate’s reactions, and help him up.  
“How am I still here?” he asks me, and I tug him over to a darker part of the Arena, a way out.  
This might be a bit traumatic, for both of us.

“I changed you into a vampire because Aventus killed you. I didn’t have any choice, and I didn’t even know if it would work. But you’re alive and you’re here now!” I say quickly, but not so as to blur the words together in a nonsensical babble. My relief is practically coming off me in waves.  
“Wait, wait, wait, I’m a vampire? You turned me into a vampire?” he asks, and I nod slowly, unsure now.  
“I don’t want this.” Bickslow turns around and moves away a bit, but not out of earshot. Music is pumping in the background, the party in full swing before us.  
“What?” I ask, confused, and he whips around, looking me in the eye.  
“I don’t want to be a vampire, a bloodsucking leech that feeds on good people to survive! And I certainly don’t want to be with, or even near you! I had a life, and goals, and dreams!”  
“You can still accomplish them-”  
“It’s not the same! I won’t be able to walk in sunlight the same way! I have an advantage over everyone, now, and my life is in danger because of you!” he hisses, and I feel any remaining control over my emotions slipping.  
“Bickslow, I’m-” I pause, about to tell him about the child, but can’t bring myself to do so. “I’m sorry, okay? But it was the only way to save your life!”  
“Maybe I’d rather be dead than be a monstrosity like you!” he responds, the comment biting into me.  
I recoil physically, drawing myself up only through willpower, and whisper, knowing that if I speak above it by anything, I’d risk leveling the city, even the entire continent.  
“Do you really think me a monster?”  
“Yes.” he comes up to me, his few inches on me giving him an advantage, peering down at my face.  
“Do you want me gone?”  
“Permanently.” he hisses the word, and doesn’t break my gaze.  
“Fine then. I’ll be gone by morning light, and you’ll never see me again.” I speak, my heart breaking with the words.  
“Good.” he whips around like a whirlwind, and stalks off, greeting his guildmates and pouring himself a drink, downing it in a few seconds, grabbing another and shouting with his guildmates. His friends.  
My heart doesn’t just break, it shatters.  
The world seems to spin to a stop, and I move in slow motion to Serana, asking her with my tongue fumbling in my mouth, mumbling the words.  
“Serana, would you please stay and give Bickslow a basic overview of his new vampire skills?”  
She looks up at me, and questions my question herself. “Why? Aren’t you going to do that? You are his Mate, after all.”  
I shake my head and barely lift my eyes to meet hers, letting her see the shattering in my very soul. “Not anymore.” I lift myself up, putting on a mask of confidence and bravado.  
“He doesn’t want me here anymore. But come, Serana, it’s a party- we need proper attire, for when our guests come.”  
“Our guests?”  
“I think the Savior’s Hide would do quite well here. What would you like, Serana?” I ask her, and when she opens her mouth, it’s not a question that comes out that I’ll just shake my head at.  
“I’d love to wear some Tavern clothes.”  
Sithis bless my best friend.

The pair of us walk out into the party, the entire thing in swing, although I know a way to make it so much better.  
“Sanguine, Sheogorath, Molag Bal, Mephala, Azura, Boethiah, Hermaeus Mora, Clavicus Vile, Mehrunes Dagon, Meridia, Hircine, Nocturnal, Malacath, Namira, Vaermina, Peryite, hear my call- these mortals need the presence of the ultimates!”  
Instantly, several appear, with more coming, most taking on a somewhat humanoid form at the very least. Hermaeus Mora sticks to his status quo by making sure his clothes are made of books, and his face is blank, in fact, his entire body blank, with the night sky swirling in it. A crown of tentacles adorns his head.  
Hircine has stag antlers on his heads (26), with fur adorning his body in just the necessary places. Molag Bal has his customary horns, and blood red clothes clinging to his well-muscled body, armor on his torso and every single tooth in his mouth filed down to a dangerously sharp point.  
Peryite appears in a suit, him following with mortal fashion while the other Daedra did not bother. It makes it easier for him to keep order. Meridia obliges him, as they both generally like to have order, but she dresses in a slinky dress, not quite a gown, but definitely bright enough to give someone a headache. Although her realm doesn’t encompass order, she generally likes the order that killing and vanquishing undead brings.  
Namira greets Mora, her in a form-fitting dress made of human skin, still bloody and warm. The two of them laugh like old friends, and start talking with Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon, who’s merely wearing a loincloth, leaving the rest of his scarred body on display. A crown of pure fire resides on top of his head, where he has three eyes and a twisted face.  
Mephala wears a dress and matching jewelry resembling spider webs, with her blood red hair piled high on top of her head. Azura’s robes are blinding, more than Meridia’s, made of the dawn’s light. Boethiah wears her armor, her head held high and a sword on her back, dripping with the sacrifices of her cultists, the armor giving off poison mist that’s much stronger than the Ebony Mail’s. Malacath wears almost nothing, his skin green, like an Orc’s, and engages Vaermina, in robes spun of nightmares, forming faces and horrors incrementally while their master talks amicably with the Prince of the Spurned.  
Nocturnal wears her robes, dipped low and covering her with shadow, ravens attracted to her by her very being, and speaks to Clavicus Vile, wearing bright gold armor that resonates with magical power, the Rueful Axe on his back while he flashes a smile at the Queen of Shadows, his hand resting on his faithful companion, Barbas, still in dog form.  
Sheogorath and Sanguine are the last to arrive, despite being called first. I suppose they wanted to be ready for the party.  
Sheogorath arrives, bringing a brief shower of cheese with him, in his usual formal suit of many colors, but bearing a cane as well.  
“Well, now, Champion, do you know who I am know?” he says with his Scottish burr resonating easily over the crowd’s dull roar.  
“I don’t know what to call you know- Listener, or Sheogorath!” I laugh, and he laughs as well, a glint in his eye that I’m fairly sure isn’t dangerous. Well, not that dangerous.  
“Sheogorath, if you will, Champion. I’m two separate entities with that and me! Now, who’s up for some pumpernickel? Stanley? No, no, you’ve had far too much already, my friend! What? She did? I’ll rip her eyes out of her skull and slam them into her backside for that! When I get back. But now, how about some cheese?”  
I gratefully laugh, and accept the offered food, which may as well be a vegetable for all that he eats it.  
“Well well well, if it isn’t the best partier in all the realms! Listener! How’ve you been?” speaks a voice behind me, and I turn to hug the Daedric Prince of Debauchery. He’s appeared as Sam, and I have no doubt that I’d lose against him in a drinking contest. I have no plans to drink tonight, though.  
“Sam! Glad you could make it!”  
“Like I’d miss the party of the century! But first, let’s get this party started!”  
The music is suddenly interrupted, and people begin to look around in confusion, until they see a new set of speakers, and one of those new DJ tables powered by lacrima to make music go all night long, even without a mage.  
“I’m Sam, and this is going to be the party of the century. Can you hear me, wizards of Fairy Tail? Let me hear you!” He shouts into the mic, and the crowd responds, even though I’m pretty sure that under normal circumstances, they’d raise a few questions about the strange man taking over the party.  
He waves his hand, and the drinks at the refreshment table, quickly set up, overflow into an overabundance of alcohol, probably filled with the same stuff that I drank in our first contest. Ah, those were the days.  
The crowd cheers him on, as he gets out a new record, one he magicked up, no doubt, and starts to play it, laughing at all the mirth he sees. Sheo and I start acting crazily, dancing and acting like chickens. No one’s going to remember this tomorrow except for me and my family, so why bother acting nice and lovely, like everything’s all right?  
I ignore everything around me and just think about the moment, not about the feelings, the future, the past, nothing but the moment.  
It works- for the moment.

The party’s over, the Daedra have gone home with a wonderful night under their belt and a few new followers, thanks to the residents joining us. Serana’s the only one of us remaining behind, waiting to fill out my request to teach Bickslow about the essentials of being a vampire. Neloth left in the early hours, saying he’d had enough debauchery and knowledge for one night, a remarkable achievement for him, and Decimus is waiting for me onboard the train car, reserving a compartment.  
I take one final look around, pull up my mask in the cowl of my hood, and take off.  
Away from my Mate, and away from whatever we had.  
The emotions are under lock and key. I cannot lead if I can feel. If I can feel, then I am confused, and then the Black Hand is gone before I can save it.  
I will wait for eternity, until the time comes when I inevitably fall in battle, but hopefully against Alduin.  
The people, until that day, will fear my name.  
They will learn the menace that is the Dark Brotherhood. I will rule this world from the shadows.  
My hand comes down to my stomach, and I let a small spark of joy leap down. The pain is still present, but I will suffer it, for this will be my light in the darkness.  
And this, this will be my reason for living.

~To be Continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (25)- Is this the one Vidaldus was talking about? I see what he means. In fact, I think everybody can see it.  
> (26)- He only has two. For now.


End file.
